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Martha Jane 


^ Ifei) EkG^ND Pl^MR^SE 





Uhisbra^ Inj 
C.OXo^^aii^Vj, 


The Branch Publisbityi Co. 
Chica ^ ^ 


CO 



Copyright, 1918 
By 

Adele Sarpy Morrison 


T -8 iSfS 

©GLA506232 




I 


FOREWORD 


It has been the Author effort in writing 
this booh to give to those who may read it 
her conception of the nobleness of women in 
her private life. 

The story here told is of a woman whose 
highest aspiration ivas to do her duty with- 
out expectation of applause or thought of 
reward. 

In this day when women no longer shun 
publicity j but seek the applause of the world, 
the simple story here told of a woman^s hero- 
ism in her struggles for right and happiness 
is in strange contrast to those who now seek 
reward and happiness in the present field of 
women’s activities. 

We daily read of women who are offering 
their services in ivar and other noble causes, 
and of the part they are taking in public 
affairs; but, we seldom read of their deeds 
of heroism, not upon the battlefield, but in 
their private lives. 

The woman who is doing her work, however 
humble it may be, meeting the hardships and 


temptations of life unflinchingly , is a soldier, 
and as brave as any in battle. The heroism 
of the ivoman who gives her life to the happi- 
ness of her home is as great as any soldier 
ivho dies in battle for his country, even though 
her deeds may never be recorded on the rolls 
of fame. 

The Author^s idea of a noble woman is here 
portrayed ivith the hope that it may tend to 
show that true happiness most often comes 
to those whose aspirations have been pure and 
noble, unthout thought of applause or reward. 

The world is producing many women with 
exalted public ideas, but the Author ^s appeal 
for indulgence in the writing of this book is 
based upon the hope what she has here writ- 
ten will tend to show that the greatest good 
yet done by women has been by those who 
cherish most their homes. 

Such women, in their natural sphere, have 
done the most in the world^s advancement, 
and it is to all such women 1 dedicate this 
book. 

ADELE SARPY MORRISON. 






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A New England Primrose 

CHAPTER I 

TISI a small New England town there lived a 
family of plain ancestry, with moderate 
means but high aspirations for their eldest 
daughter, one of three lovely children. 

She gave evidence of no mean amount of 
capacity, and was destined to be worthy of 
all they could spare bestowed upon her. By 
the time she had reached her fifteenth year she 
was unusually developed in every respect, and 
so it was the chief incentive of her plain, sim- 
ple parents to accord her what seemed more 
than her share of their hard earned money. 

After long consideration and close observa- 
tion of the girl, Ma and Pa determined that 
Martha Jane should be sent off to what they 
called ‘‘A fashionable boarding school.^’ After 
the ^^pros and cons^^ of the case had all been 
laid before Mrs. Fisher, the head of the 
school. Pa and Martha Jane, or Jane as she 
was usually called by her friends, paid a per- 
sonal call on her. Mrs. Fisher was so pleased 
1 


2 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


with Jane that most favorable terms were 
made, which were to the effect that the pupil 
Avas to make herself useful in oft times in part 
compensation for her tuition. 

Then came the hurry and bustle of getting 
her ready for this important step which was 
to make her the envy of all her friends. In 
Ma’s girlhood days she had more worldly goods 
than she acquired by entering upon a life 
her parents thought beneath her, but it was 
the old story of love which was full of prom- 
ises but which did not culminate as they had 
hoped. 

Soon after her marriage Ma found that ris- 
ing in life was a slower task than she had 
pictured it would be. Her common sense, not 
the least of her good qualities, taught her 
to be most prudent, and so she laid aside all 
she could for harder times, should they come. 

In her trunks many things that she gazed 
upon with tears in her eyes, were carefully 
folded away. These treasures Avere now pro- 
duced to serve in the getting ready of her 
daughter, in Avhom so many hopes were cen- 
tered. Ma had lived so long in complete 
isolation from the world that some of the 
articles she produced, striking her as beauti- 
ful — the recollections of youth still hovering 
about them — AA^ere so decidedly out of date as 
to be beyond utilization, and they were returned 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


3 


to the trunk with the feeling that they might 
some time he of nse. 

After days of mingled joy and tears, Jane’s 
outfit was completed, and it was to her and 
to most of her friends a thing of beauty. Her 
best friend, a girl full of fun and humor, 
hardly waited for the friends who had assisted 
her so graciously to express their admiration 
before bursting forth with, ‘‘Law, girls, that 
there dress will sure he copied by some of 
the gals, and as for that there hat, Jane, your 
friends will he a-horrowing it until pretty soon 
they won’t know who it belongs to; and as 
for them there nightgo^vns, you will just have 
to get sick so the doctor can see you and tell 
the folks all about them. My! what luck you 
are in! We who are left behind will have 
Barker all to ourselves, and it won’t he so 
bad after all. No telling hut with all your 
fine clothes you may catch a fellow before long 
and then you’ll turn a cold shoulder to all 
your old friends. Believe me, after all I am 
thinking there’s a heap more happiness in 
shuckin’ corn than sitting up in a parlor before 
a gas log fire with those tight shoes. I think 
they call them patten leathers, and in telling 
gals what’s all made up like beauty pictures 
that they are so lovely after they’ve been 
going around asking how much money they’ve 


4 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


got; and, if not enough, just a flying after 
other gals/^ 

When all was completed and the antiquated 
rig Avas brought up and the trunk strapped 
on the back of it, all her friends told good-bye, 
brothers and sisters kissed, her mother ^s bless- 
ing was given and they started off to the 
train. Father was in his best clothes, and 
Jane, in spite of her sorrow over leaving home, 
looked pretty and real attractive in her rus- 
tic simplicity. 

Arriving at the depot, they found Barker 
awaiting them with a bunch of lovely flowers 
freshly culled from his home garden. He 
was filled with distress over giving up Jane, 
and made no effort to disguise it. The con- 
ductor promised to take good care of her, it 
being only a good day’s ride, and someone 
would meet her at the train. Pa gave her a 
little purse and saw that she put it safely 
away, and Jane felt like the richest lady in 
all the land, though the amount in her pocket 
was A^ery small. 

Once alone, she sank into a corner and had 
a good cry, and then day dreams of what she 
was going to make of herself, for there was 
much of the mother’s ambition in her. She 
was met at the train by a most respectable 
man of advanced years, and taken to the 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


5 


school, where she was welcomed hy Mrs. 
Fisher and a number of her pupils, who were 
not slow in diagnosing her case and putting 
the newcomer down as a country girl. 


CHAPTER II 



T first Jane was homesick; the bright 


burning log in the fire at home was far 
more pleasant and cheery than the gas log 
with its unpleasant fumes. Her heart went 
back to the dear home and its loved ones. 

That night sleep was slow in coming, and 
she was lonely and forlorn. She felt friend- 
less, but was determined to rise superior to 
it all and make the most of her opportunities. 
With this firm resolve she fell asleep. 

Before many a day her simple country attire 
had ceased to attract attention, and it was 
not long before her clear comprehension and 
grasp of mind made her the envy of all in 
the school, and so those who at first smiled 
at the country girl found themselves looking 
up to her. She did not seek to disguise the 
fact that she was paying partly for her tui- 
tion by making herself useful. In fact, she 
strove to fill each one of her duties scrupu- 
lously well and thoroughly — thus rising to the 
highest point in the estimation of everyone. 

The scholastic year soon roUed by, its close 
to be celebrated in the usual way. Jane had 
played her part well, and announcement was 


6 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


7 


made that she was to be awarded the recom- 
pense she so richly deserved. However, there 
were to be unexpected witnesses to the honors 
awaiting her, the circumstances of which, as 
will be demonstrated, showed her to be a girl 
of unusual character. 

The day before the closing exercises her Pa 
and Ma appeared upon the scene of action, 
presenting a most unusual appearance. It was 
a case of Ma with a ponderous bandbox and 
a trunk which might be called an antiquity, 
while Pa carried an ancient carpet bag and 
wore a stock. He also wore a hat not unlike 
the historic one of Horace Greeley, tall and 
grey, and to cap the climax his hands were 
covered with white cotton gloves. 

Jane greeted them most affectionately and 
with unbounded respect, and soon they were 
surrounded by giggling, sneering girls who 
had assembled for no other purpose than to 
enjoy what they had supposed would be Janets 
embarrassment and mortification. They were 
surprised and disappointed, and that day 
learned from the noble hearted country girl 
that love and respect for your parents is 
not dependent upon fine feathers. She knew 
that beneath the plainest apparel there is often 
found the noblest nature, and how often we 
are dazzled by diamonds or allured by costly 
gowns. Jane was one of nature’s rarest 


8 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


beings, filled with high instincts, and her life 
was destined to be the framing of a beautiful 
home picture, from which she would shine 
forth as radiant as a Madonna. 

It was then to be decided should she return 
home for the vacation. Unhesitatingly Jane’s 
reply was given in the affirmative, and so she 
departed with the admiration of everyone, 
leaving behind her many who were mystified 
and waiting for the unfolding of future devel- 
opments. 

Before 'long the home she had left some time 
since through her wish to elevate her people 
and herself, was much changed. Her brothers 
and sisters clustered about her fondly, craving 
all the wise things she could teach them, and 
she was more than repaid by the feelings that 
the crushing of a false pride had been the 
means of fitting them to become creditable 
members of the community in which they lived. 

How commendable it is for all of us to stand 
by our own, ^‘be they ever so humble,” striv- 
ing to elevate them and convert their short- 
comings into noble aims in life. Can any- 
thing be more beautiful than the charms that 
cluster about a pure elevating home life, where 
Christian fortitude reigns supreme and self- 
sacrifice is ever an inspiration and a conso- 
lation? The high desire that others may be 
blessed as well as ourselves savors of Heaven. 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


9 


Jane went along in the even tenor of her 
way doing good where she could to help and 
elevate people. As I have shown, she had 
great force of character and possessed a fine 
sense of humor with an appreciation of the 
joyous side of life, but her manner was always 
dignified; and, while she could arouse others 
to mirth without the slightest effort, she her- 
self was unconscious of it, which always lends 
a charm. 

At all social gatherings, balls, picnics, hay 
rides, etc., she was always present, for indeed 
she was sought by all and not permitted to 
decline. Her exuberant spirits lent the great- 
est charm to everything, and I may say her 
male admirers were as numerous as her girl 
friends. She was rather inclined to treat all 
love-making lightly; not ridicule exactly, but 
to make men think it was only a passing fancy, 
and that Platonic love was all they wanted and 
therefore they should be satisfied. 

From among those who gathered about her 
there was one rather handsome and aristo- 
cratic looking man, whose reticence, one might 
say, gave the impression of conceit and entire 
self-satisfaction, while this was not the case. 
He was simply studying Jane, and his admirU' 
tion of her was increasing with every meet- 
ing. She received from him less attention than 
any of the girls, but was not disturbed by it. 


10 


A NEW ENGIJ^ND PRIMROSE 


though she had not been slow in remarking 
it. She felt that he seemed rather out of his 
element, and when upon one occasion after 
a short waltz he led her out on the moonlit 
lawn she rather wondered at it, but was soon 
made aware of the fact that at least his 
admiration for her was great and always had 
been. 

Before parting that evening there was what 
one might call a jolly romp, a Virginia Reel, 
a most unusual fun. Jane was ring leader, 
but always with dignity, and he, too, fell in, 
astonishing all the girls, who had thought him 
somewhat of a stick, so stitf and unbending; 
and, wherever possible Jane was the recipient 
of his greatest attention. 

But all good things must come to an end. 
When they went to put on their wraps and 
someone spoke to her of his attention she 
laughing said: yes, invite you all to the 

wedding. ^ ’ 

Her admirer overheard the remark, and as 
he bade her good-night asked if he might call, 
remarking that many a true word is spoken 
in jest, which made her wonder at the meaning. 


CHAPTER III 

T he day soon came when he explained the 
meaning of his remark. Janets admirer 
gave the impression of being slow and delib- 
erate, but he certainly was not in his course 
of love with the girl who had won his heart, 
which had been often tried but never before 
touched in the slightest degree. 

Before many days sturdy Jane sang with 
a lightness of heart she had never known 
before, and seemed to be getting out of life 
more real joy than she had ever realized 
existed, and which is accorded to none but 
true lovers. 

As for Mirium, the Virginian, no man was 
ever more intent upon getting his heart's 
wish than he was, and he set about it in 
just the way to insure his success with the girl 
he had been studying from afar with ever 
increasing admiration. He was determined 
to be first in the race for such a prize, and 
to win or die in the struggle! His courtship 
was that of a high toned, cultured man, though 
romance was not lacking to lend it strength. 
‘^Lucile" was a favorite of his. ‘‘How sweet 
must that voice be if once she would speak." 


11 


12 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


It was what he said to her when Jane was 
slow in giving a reply. ^‘And the tale to each 
heart, unto which it is known, has a different 
sense. It has puzzled my own.’’ So the days 
of love-making passed, drawing them closer 
to each other ; and, when a beautiful soft 
moonlight night found them still lingering on 
the banks of a brook to which they had strolled 
in the twilight and from whence they were 
loath to depart, promises had been made, never 
to be broken and only to be strengthened by 
the blessing of that God Who is ever ready 
to hear the prayers offered by a noble woman. 
Jane was now willing to add to her cares of 
life that of a man who made no secret of 
being a believer in nothing, but now willing 
to be guided by her into the pathway that 
would insure them perfect happiness here on 
earth and peace in that home towards which 
we are all traveling. 

Before many a day they were married with 
the usual ceremony among people of moderate 
means. She made a truly lovely bride with 
her sweet womanly beauty, and the groom felt 
himself the most blessed man in having won 
a prize so coveted by all. 

They went on their honeymoon trip, and 
we will now leave them until we shall meet 
them again under much changed circumstances. 


CHAPTER IV 


TTAVING skipped a few years of this dear 
±± girl’s life during the time when she was 
ripening into the glorious woman that one of 
her character would most certainly be, we 
now reach the time when she is settled in a 
little home of her own; where beautiful and 
flourishing vines creep from the ground to the 
roof of this love-cottage, which upon entering 
brings before you a beautiful domestic scene, 
but not without its amusing side. 

First, let us see Jane as a faithful wife 
and fond mother, whose appreciation of the 
just side of life makes her not only forebear- 
ing but patient to a degree with the follies 
of an eccentric brother-in-law. Not the most 
aggravating things done by him makes her 
forget that he is the brother of her husband. 
Nothing provokes her until he attempts vari- 
ous pranks with her little son, not so long 
out of his cradle. Then his mother’s indigna- 
tion is so aroused that she startles her hus- 
band by showing him the spirit so long kept 
under control ; and, for a while he realizes the 
truth of the saying that, ^Ht is unwise to play 
with fire.” However, things went on most 


13 


14 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


happily, though she found creeping into her 
heart the feeling that this brother-in-law’s 
presence was a sort of intrusion, and that she 
would fain wish it might be that he were liv- 
ing elsewhere. Womanlike, she tried to master 
an idea that would bring this about, and her 
first step was to be directed towards encour- 
aging pretty girls to visit her home. She 
never for a moment dreamed she was laying 
the foundation for her own first misery. 

This peculiar man had no charms or attrac- 
tions for the girls; indeed, his peculiar man- 
ner made them christen him ‘‘Crazy Bill,” his 
name being William; and, while striving to 
avoid him, they recognized how different were 
the charms and character of his brother. 

It was not long before the proud wife was 
made to realize that the tables were turned, 
and that her heart’s love was straying from 
her. She was not one to be so treated; and 
when finally something beyond endurance 
occurred she merely determined not to endure 
it longer, so watching for an occasion when 
the coast was clear she departed from sad 
scenes, taking her little son, Emile, and only 
a small amount of worldly goods with her. 

Upon her husband’s return it did not take 
long for him to realize that his beautiful, 
peaceful home life had been broken up by 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


15 


his folly in trifling with the love and pride of 
a most loyal wife. 

His first inquiries were made at her home, 
where she was not found. Then every imagin- 
able spot was searched in vain, until the first 
aiipreciation of how he had wronged her bore 
him almost to his grave. He could learn noth- 
ing of Jane, and suffered deeply for his mis- 
deeds. 

Thinking that her scant allowance of money 
must perforce drive her home, he sought com- 
fort in that thought, but little did he know 
the character with which he was dealing. With 
Jane the step was taken which meant a life- 
long separation — if he could cease to love her, 
so could she him. 

Prior to leaving him, or rather home, she 
had seen in the papers that Mrs. Fisher was 
advertising for a teacher, and it was not long 
before she had secured the position, and had 
arranged to lodge with a lady nearby who 
would care for her child during her absence, 
until such time as she could atford a nurse. 

Never dreaming of this being her place of 
seclusion, the husband ^s hopes soon waned, 
and with broken health and spirits he closed 
their once home of happiness and became a 
wanderer over the world. Jane made herself 
so useful and of so much value to Mrs. Fisher 


16 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


that nothing would induce Mrs. Fisher to part 
with her. 

It came to pass tliat when he was roaming 
the world over he stopped in a little town 
whence he had gone to rest en route to a 
milder climate, recommended to him by his 
doctor in hopes of benefiting his shattered 
nerves. It was Sunday, and for want of 
something better to do he followed those mak- 
ing their way to church, and chanced to be, 
in returning, within earshot of a party of 
young girls, whose topic of conversation was 
Mrs. Fisher ^s school. Soon his brain was on 
fire with recollections of all he had heard of 
it; and speedy efforts were made by him to 
become acquainted with the group. Naturally, 
they were led on in relating their experiences, 
when all of a sudden one of the girls 
exclaimed: ^‘Did you ever meet a dearer, 
sweeter and more brilliant woman than Mrs. 
Mirium? I cannot but think there is a sad 
side to her life.’^ Had they but seen him, 
another sad tale might have been divulged. 

One of the girls spoke up, saying: ‘‘Oh! 
it seems to me she is living entirely for her 
child; and, through him, to keep many a sor- 
rowing wrinkle from her brow. Just to think 
of it, she will have no change this summer, 
just stay on here while Mrs. Fisher goes off 
for a rest. Ihn so fond of her that I am going 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


17 


to return a week before school opens just to 
be with her. Apart from my love for her, she 
teaches me so much, stimulates my ambition, 
and I feel that I grow better each day I am 
with her. 

Some of this conversation took place after 
they had reached the hotel, where Mirium sat 
in close proximity to them and behind a paper, 
with a cigar in his mouth, and drank in all 
that they said. Had he been good looking 
as in the days of yore, before his own false 
life made inroads upon his health, the lovely 
girls would have been attracted to him; but, 
as it was they saw in him only a poor, sick 
man whom they pitied. Knowing his wife^s 
firm and decisive nature, he resolved that the 
first step should be taken towards reconcilia- 
tion through the medium of pen. Accordingly, 
he lost no time in sending her as repentant, 
self -reproaching letter as was ever written by 
a loving husband. While awaiting a reply he 
learned from these girls, whom he loved 
because they loved her, many things of his 
dear ones. The tender hearts of the young 
girls were touched by pity and sympathy for 
him. 

Such a long time passed without his receiv- 
ing any reply to his letter that the temptation 
was very great to go to her, but the conscious- 
ness of his guilt was so strong that he dared 


18 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


not venture. Upon receipt of his letter his 
Avife had but one wish, to get the further from 
him. If in the heyday of her charms she 
could not hold him, how could she expect to 
do so now! No, she reasoned, it must not be, 
so informing Mrs. Fisher that she was obliged 
to leave at once, though greatly distressed to 
do so, she fled to a little town, a rather inex- 
pensive resort of which she had heard. 

Before departing she told Mrs. Fisher that 
she would return whenever she could do so. 
Everywhere she left feelings of warm attach- 
ment and the deepest regrets at her departure. 


CHAPTER V 


^HE place to wliicli she went was what in 
Europe would be regarded as a peasant 
village, so crude, almost wild, and with few 
comforts. The people were honest and sturdy, 
the climate fine for her child; and, this she 
used as her excuse for her hasty departure, 
with the additional statement that she wanted 
to start a school and had decided to locate in 
this little village. 

This explanation was believed by all, and 
forthwith every available comfort was placed 
at her disposal. 

For the present let us return to her wretched 
husband, so full of remorse. All wish to live 
left him w^hen he found, upon going to Mrs. 
Fisher ^s, that his wife had gone without leav- 
ing a single trace of her whereabouts. Again 
he took up his life of wandering; and, as he 
was reaching the end of his resources, resorted 
to newspaper and magazine writing, by which 
he managed to live, always with the hope that 
he might still find the only woman he had 
ever loved, and who he knew was caring so 
tenderly for their child. 

Jane began her life in this mountainous 
19 


20 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


resort by interesting the little country children 
in their religion; and soon she found old as 
well as young gathering about her and only 
too willing to be guided by her wise teachings. 

The room alloted to her as a schoolroom 
was boarded otf the end of the little church, 
or, as they were wont to call it, meeting 
house, and though rough on the exterior, her 
dexterous fingers soon improved it greatly. 
The first request she made of one of the 
farmers was to get her some vines, the names 
of which she wrote down, and when they 
reached her she planted them along the rough 
exterior, and after that her great pleasure was 
to water and care for them, watching with 
delight every leaf that came forth. It was 
not long before she had made a bower of 
this little schoolroom, and so attractive that 
the little ones came early and left as late as 
possible. They all loved the roses which 
crept up to the very roof, and their little 
eyes would open with astonishment when they 
marvelled at the rapidity with which they 
bloomed. It was looked upon as the work 
of her magic fingers — nothing short. 

About this time a longing for his old home 
took possession of her husband, and he 
directed his steps towards the abandoned cot- 
tage which had once been the abode of so 
much true and genuine love. As he approached 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


21 


the house from afar off, he threw himself upon 
the ground, thinking of all he had lost through 
his folly. He pictured the happiness he would 
have had in seeing his child so tenderly and 
carefully reared by a noble mother. He 
thought of the child playing upon the grass 
of which she had been so careful that no 
weed could peep through it; and then, falling 
asleep, he dreamed that one more attempt 
would bring a reconciliation if only he could 
find her. 


CHAPTER VI 


W ITH renewed courage, rising, he drew 
near the little cottage. The blinds were 
drawn down and the door carefully sealed. 
His eyes were greeted by a green patch of 
ground more elevated than the rest, which 
was covered with beautiful roses. Walking 
thoughtfully on, he realized that time had 
almost hidden the love nest from view and 
that he must pull away the lovely New Eng- 
land primroses, her favorite flower, before 
he could enter the house. They were so 
entwined that he had to use his knife, which 
he did with reluctance, as the smallest tendril 
had grown dear to him. This accomplished, 
he unlocked the door and, entering, stood for 
a moment gazing about him, and then with 
grief-stricken heart he turned and left the 
house, only stopping long enough to pluck 
a primrose from the vines clustered profusely 
about the stoop which led to their abandoned 
home, and he watered the lovely flower with 
his tears. 

At the time he was passing through this 
22 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


23 


painful ordeal, eTane was having an additional 
sorrow, for she lay very ill in the modest 
home she had selected for herself as a hiding 
place, amongst the good people who had 
learned to love her and treat her child with 
the greatest kindness. She lay tossing with 
high fever, and in her wanderings would often 
repeat, ‘ ^ What will become of my poor child f ^ ^ 

All that the country doctor could do for 
her was done with greatest tenderness; and 
when he began to doubt his own skill he sent 
a most willing messenger to a nearby town 
for the best doctor there, who arrived in time 
to arrest the ravages of the disease and 
restore, though very slowly, her shattered 
nerves to their normal condition. 

While attending her, the doctor saw her 
devotion to her child which was so touching, 
and like all who ever came in contact with 
her, learned to love her. 

Jane never spoke of her private matters 
to anyone, and by all she was thought to be 
a widow. As she convalesced it was the delight 
of the little ones to bring her a flower, a fine 
apple from a father’s choicest tree, some fresh 
eggs, some particularly fine butter made by 
mother or a small pitcher of the richest cream 
from their pet cow. All these evidences of 
devotion impressed themselves upon the doc- 
tor, who realized that they were the strongest 


24 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


proofs of the love bestowed upon her by these 
good people, amongst whom she bloomed forth 
like a beautiful flower. The sweetest of all 
to her they knew was the primrose. 

As she grew stronger, the doctor lifted her 
gently to a chair, and she was carried outside 
and placed near the rose vines. The warm, 
fresh air, the chirping of the birds and fra- 
grance of the flowers made her face all aglow 
with peace and contentment. 

The doctor looked long and admiringly at 
her, then ventured to speak words of love, 
which she interrupted by saying: ‘‘The tie 
that binds me has never been severed.^’ 

This statement inspired hope, but he desisted 
from pressing his suit, and from then on was 
only a faithful, never flagging admirer, mak- 
ing her feel that he was ever ready to serve 
her. He was handsome, well bom, and by 
no means poor, with such refinement that her 
heart could not fail to enjoy his presence. 

Often she would ask herself what had 
become of the man she once loved so well, the 
father of her child. This question pained and 
bewildered her. She felt sure that there was 
but one course to pursue and that she had 
taken it, but did it mean never-ending seclu- 
sion from her loved ones and, perhaps, a life 
of hardships for her child? These questions 
puzzled and saddened her. Love that had 



The Doctor 


26 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


been so trampled upon could never be rekin- 
dled she felt sure. Then why hold a good 
man, a man she now loved, away from her? 

A^Tien she asked herself such questions she 
would have to quell the storm of love raging 
in her heart and treat it as treason, ill becom- 
ing a true woman, and satisfy herself with 
the thought that none but the righteous see 
God, and so she went on in the even tenor 
of her ways. 

About this time an accident occurred on a 
railroad some miles away from the nearest 
town, and her friend, the doctor, was one of 
those called to the rescue of the injured. 
Amongst those whom he revived was a man 
who had narrowly escaped death and who 
ultimately was proven to be Jane’s husband. 
He was most terribly maimed and his life 
despaired of for a time. 

While her husband was being treated he 
told the doctor the cause of his errand in 
that part of the country, which disclosed the 
fact that this wounded man was the husband 
of the only woman he had ever loved. The 
doctor’s heart was silenced for the time being, 
but the fire of hope was not quenched, and 
he did not divulge to Jane the secret of the 
presence of her husband until he had weighed 
it well. 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


27 


Then he went to Jane, whom he found car- 
ing for her vines, the little ones bringing her 
water to refresh them. The picture he then 
saw was never to be forgotten! The roses 
which surrounded her, and the rose which 
nestled in her hair with such grace as only 
could be placed by divine hands. 

Her pleasure at seeing him was beyond a 
doubt! They chatted for a while, and then 
he told her he wanted to speak seriously to 
her and suggested a seat under a nearby tree, 
to which she readily assented. When he looked 
at her, the frightened expression on her face 
reminded him of a timid gazelle, which induced 
him to say: ^‘My old subject is not again 
to be brought up, so donT fear me.^’ 

She seemed to have some misgivings and 
grew pale. Soon the nature of his business 
was laid before her, after which he waited 
long to hear what she would say; and, when 
she did speak it was to confirm the opinion he 
had of her, that she was one of God’s noblest 
women. 

Unbending her pride, she laid her whole life 
of suffering and humiliation before him, add- 
ing that while love on her part could never 
be revived, duty would be, as it had always 
been, her guiding star. That she would go 
at once to her husband and minister to his 
wants as best she could, but with the hope 


28 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


that no additional sorrow would 
upon her. 

The doctor arranged for their 
their forsaken home, which they a 
entered from beneath a bower of 
land primroses. 


be forced 

return to 
little later 
New Eng- 


CHAPTER VII 

TT took some time for Mirium to recover 
^ sufficiently to be removed to his cottage 
home; nor, would the doctor permit Jane to 
entertain a thought of going to him in her 
own enfeebled condition, as this sad disclos- 
ure had been another shock to her system. 

Time went on, and the doctor thought it 
well to keep Mirium unaware of the fact that 
he was so near his wife; but, he drew from 
him all the details of his sad mistake in life, 
and to learn that he was greatly attached to 
his wife, though he felt sure in his crippled 
state that search for her was now more hope- 
less than ever. How could their love be 
revived, even if he were forgiven now, in his 
crippled and disfigured condition? 

He did not realize that a noble woman will 
sacrifice everjdhing for the fulfillment of duty, 
even deceiving herself rather than stab, know- 
ing by experience the poignancy of such a 
blow. 

These days of illusion on Mirium ^s part, 
when the doctor was called upon to keep Jane 
29 


30 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


aware of her husband ^s condition brought them 
in constant contact, and the nobleness of her 
character fortified his admiration for her. 

The good people with whom Jane and Emile 
lived wondered at the backset her sickness 
had taken, for she seemed to be recovering so 
rapidly, having no idea what had caused it. 
But the doctor assured them it was only a 
feature of the disease and she would soon be 
well again. 

Contrary to the advice of the doctor, Jane 
feeling that distraction would be helpful to 
her, collected her class of children about her, 
making them all most happy, and her life con- 
tinued as of old, though she carried a heavy 
heart. She realized that the next turn in 
her life would be when the doctor consented 
to the three, accompanied by himself, to turn 
their faces homeward to that once happy shel- 
ter of love, which would now be only of 
disappointment. 

Each of us have a friend to whom we 
can tell our inmost thoughts ; and Jane found 
in the doctor such a person, but she felt that 
she must guard against it. 

^‘The world is filled with flowers, 

The flowers are filled with dew, 

The dew is filled with love, 

It must not be for you.’’ 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


31 


She wept when she realized this. Every 
day brought her nearer to the day which would 
necessitate controlling of her own proud feel- 
ings for the facing of a sad duty; and, it 
seemed at times that her nobler instincts 
would be false to her. She felt that mastery 
over herself must be attained at all costs, so 
she calmly awaited the call of duty, poisoned 
by a consciousness of injustice done her, but 
resolved to open the well-springs of a gener- 
ous heart. She remembered Poe^s sentiment 
in The Raven: 

‘^Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating 

then no longer.’’ 

She opened the door of her soul to banish 
all darkness and admit sunshine that would 
illuminate the way of forgiveness. She asked 
herself. Will my heart ever be brighter than 
the many stars in the sky, as it once was? 
I fear not. Should my earlier life seem a 
dream, I must build no faith on it, nor read 
my destiny in a star, but gain comfort from 
an all-wise Maker Whose prayers I whispered 
upon bended knee before a guiding mother 
whose example I must follow. 

With thoughts like these she fell off into 
peaceful slumbers, to be aroused by the voices 
of her little worshipping band, which made 
her realize that quiet sleep had divested her 


32 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


of thoughts of sorrow and made her look with 
hopeful heart into the morrow. 

As must always be, there was an unruly 
child in the midst of her little band, called 
Jack, and he was so full of wild schemes that 
one might fancy him at a future day a ‘^Jack 
the Terror,’^ of which one has so often read. 
He toned down under the strenuous correc- 
tion of his father and love for Jane. With 
all his faults he was the one to take Janets 
departing farewell the hardest. 


CHAPTER VIII 


T he doctor came one day to talk over tlie 
wisest way for their leaving the sweet, 
peaceful home where all had loved and cher- 
ished her. It was decided that she was to 
go in search of a climate that was suited to 
the reestablishing of her health, as such could 
be found in the town of Winchester, Janets 
and Mirium^s home. 

She was to meet Mirium, and the journey 
to the primrose cottage home was to be made 
from there. 

Parting with all of these true, good friends 
of hers was indeed a sorrow, but is not life 
for most of us a chapter of sorrows! Janets 
farewell to them was contained in the simple 
word, ‘ ^ Aufwiedersehn. ’ ^ 

The doctor accompanied them to Winchester, 
where the meeting of the two was kept sacred 
to themselves, for no other eyes witnessed it. 
Even an explanation to Emile was deferred 
until they should be under shelter of that 
home from which he had been carried as a 
mere infant in the arms of a brokenhearted 
mother. The visit to Winchester would have 
had a pleasant side had Jane known it was 
33 


34 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


the home of Polly, the girl who loved her so 
fondly and who is destined to figure so hap- 
pily in her life at a day not so far distant. 

As it was, she departed willingly from 
them, fearing that others might have learned 
the sad tale of her unexpected visitor. The 
trip on the cars was a painful one for Jane, 
as she appreciated the suffering of Mirium 
from a physical standpoint, hut he was as 
happy as a man who has recovered the lost 
treasure of his life. 

Emile greeted him as a friend of his 
mother’s, and as the train rolled swiftly along 
the child referred to his great experiences, 
meaning those he had had when flying from 
Mrs. Fisher’s to their last home amongst the 
good, honest friends they had just left behind 
them. 

Jane and the doctor had their talk over 
future plans after their charges were cared 
for; and, when at length good-nights were 
said and Jane found herself stretched out at 
the side of her son it was not to sleep, but 
to ask God the necessary fortitude for the 
fulfillment of life’s painful duties. Dozing 
otf, these thoughts came to her: 

^^That o’er the floor and down the 'wall 
Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall. 

Then for thine own all radiance sing 
Lady awake ! awake ! awake ! ’ ’ 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


35 


She sat up in her berth and remembered 
that in days gone by she had learned these 
lines. But why should they come to her now? 
She could not say. 

But in time the trip came to an end, and a 
country conveyance took them to the home 
once illuminated by peace and happiness and 
now saddened by gloom and disappointment. 

The door was ajar and within a maid 
awaited them, who had done all possible to 
make the home ready for the newcomers. The 
doctor kept his promise of seeing to it that 
they should enter their love’s nest beneath 
a bower of New England primroses; and, as 
he bade them farewell he said: ‘‘May life soon 
be to you both what it once was.” And as 
his manly figure was seen retiring a lonely 
feeling possessed them all, and the old con- 
veyance was watched until out of sight. 

There was not the joyous feeling one has 
when is said “Home again,” for the cloud 
that hung over Jane’s heart was great and 
only disguised that another should not know 
its tale. Fortunately, his enfeebled state 
necessitated his retiring early, which was a 
great relief to Jane, as she and her son could 
then sit alone. It would require time for 
her to accustom herself to the change in their 
lives. After the evening’s work was over and 
the maid dismissed, Emile was told to go to 


36 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


bed and Muddy would soon follow. Jane went 
to Mirium^s room and fixed him comfortably 
for the night, then said that her door would 
be open and she ready to reply to his slightest 
call. Thus closed the first day of their home- 
coming. 

Still a painful task remained to be per- 
formed by Jane, which was to tell her son 
about his father, who had been on a long jour- 
ney and hurt in a railroad accident, necessi- 
tating quiet and calm until his nervous sys- 
tem should be restored. The little fellow’s 
questions were numerous and most amusing, 
one of them being: ‘‘Was he ugly like that 
when he was my papa?” Muddy at once 
replied : ‘ ‘ Darling, you are too young to know 
everything. Tomorrow you must do as you 
did today to avoid fatiguing him. Go to him 
and call him Daddy and talk like a little man. ’ ’ 
He answered: “Yes, I will, and I ask him 
lots of questions like Uncle Jim asks, you 
bet. ’ ’ 

The following day he was up with the lark 
and wandering about, his little eyes watching 
for a chance to see into the room of the man 
brought so suddenly near to him and into 
his life. Neglected time had given the place 
a sort of haunted look, but with a few days ’ 
help from Julia things would be transformed 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


37 


and then she would have to leave them, a 
step prompted by financial prudence. 

They did not realize that so early in their 
life the doctor would again appear, but he 
did, and helped them in every way. When 
the doctor had turned his back upon them 
he reclined in the rickety trap and wondered 
what the outcome would be of this sad con- 
dition of things. His heart was so full of 
love for the woman who had appeared so 
suddenly on the horizon of his life, that his 
prayers were that God would bring her hap- 
piness and her son be a comfort to her. He 
sympathized with the poor, erring man, but 
feared much that the inroads on his constitu- 
tion had been too severe to admit of restored 
health. 


CHAPTER IX 

"D E TURNING to her former home was a 
great trial for Jane, but her true friend, 
the doctor, by going with them smoothed the 
way somewhat. The little boy, Emile, clung 
fast to him, and even her husband wondered 
what they would have done without him, 
saying: 

^ ‘ He certainly has been sent to restore peace 
and happiness to our fireside, for which he 
will receive Heaven ^s blessings.’^ 

Mirium felt that first of all the doctor had 
rescued him from death, and now he was 
going to be the means of reuniting him and 
his beloved wife. The separation had been a 
long one, causing a far deeper wound than 
even his accident, a mortal wound he did not 
believe would ever be healed. 

As Jane took the doctor’s hand in bidding 
him good-bye she made no effort to restrain 
her tears, and looking into his honest eyes 
she felt assured of his loyalty. This would 
be a great comfort to her in her days of strug- 
38 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


39 


gie and self-control, and a flush of pleasure 
came to her face when her little son was 
assured it would not be long before he came 
back to see them, for he said: 

‘‘I will be anxious to see how my patient is 
progressing. ’ ^ 

Before leaving the cottage he bade them a 
most encouraging good-bye, and giving his 
card to Mirium said: shall not be too far 

to be reached if needed, and I have promised 
your little man not to let him forget me. 
Farewell. ^ ’ 

The boy’s eyes filled with tears, and the 
doctor, taking him by the hand, with some 
playful remark led him away, saying: ‘‘Let’s 
go and leave Muddy. I will be just as good 
as she is, and bring you. back right often to 
see her.” 

The little fellow said: “Oh, no! You stay 
with us, and Muddy will be good to you, and 
you won’t want to cry to go home.” 

This made the features of both faces con- 
tract with pain, but no further comment was 
made by either of them. The last Jane saw 
of him was at the forks of the road as he 
disappeared in the distance. At once she 
turned her attention to her husband’s com- 
fort, for he was still a helpless man, one limb 


40 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


being quite maimed and there being a likeli- 
hood of his being a cripple for life. Then 
there was a disfiguring scar on his face, which 
robbed him of much of the charm he pos- 
sessed when she saw him last. Duty would 
ever be her guiding star. That was her sole 
comfort, but do what he might to endear him- 
self to her the feeling always arose in her 
heart that as her youth had no lasting charm 
for him how could she hope with the traces of 
care and disappointment now stamped upon 
her to hold his atfections — she could never be 
other than a help-mate. That she could be, 
but the old love was dead, frozen from her 
heart, and so must it always be. 

Their son was .a link between them, but it 
was not a very strong one, for he had learned 
to really rely entirely upon her until the doc- 
tor came into their lives. When she was so 
ill he would sit on the piazza outside her room 
with Emile on his knee, telling him stories 
until the child fell asleep, then he would lay 
him down beside his mother and quietly steal 
away. 

As for Mirium, he almost despaired of ever 
being able to atone for his wrongdoing, and 
he did all he could to make their son love him. 
The little fellow seemed to be contrasting him 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


41 


with others and would draw away from him 
almost in dislike, for he was rather unsightly 
with his disfigurement. 

Upon one occasion, dragging out the word 
Daddy, which his mother had told him to say, 
he asked: Where did you come from? Was 
you dead and got out of the mound, one like 
we put my little dog into?’^ To comfort him, 
someone had told him his dog would come 
back after a while. ‘‘Was you there all the 
time we didnT see you, and was the grass 
and roses growing over your mound like my 
little doggie’s?^’ 

“Of course,’’ his father laughed, and told 
him he was away on a long journey. 

“What is that?” asked Emile. When he 
was told, he said: “And why didn’t you take 
me and Muddy?” 

This was too much for Jane, who had heard 
it all from an adjoining room, and she called 
to him to help her water the roses and vines. 

The child was most precocious, his mother 
having been his constant companion, and save 
for the company of little Liza, the youngest 
child of her good friends when she was in 
need, he saw no children except the few who 
came from the surrounding farmliouses to 
attend his mother’s school, so that his was a 


42 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


little wise head; and, from later questions he 
asked his daddy you will see that he was no 
dreamer, but was wondering all the time about 
he and Muddy being so long alone. He was 
slow in being drawn to his father, perhaps 
because his mother clung to him more fondly 
than ever, no doubt hoping through love for 
him to have some of the forgotten love for 
his father return and the old life davm upon 
them again. 

Be that as it may, husband as he was, never 
did he hold the place he once held in Jane’s 
heart. Try as he might, the candle always 
smouldered, but there was never a bright light. 
As soon as their home took its appearance of 
old and things looked brighter, Jane asked her 
family to visit her, which they did, and though 
she could not control a certain change in many 
things, all was sweet and peaceful. She never 
permitted herself to divulge the secret of her 
estranged life; and if any little thing escaped 
her son’s lips she passed it over with high- 
toned pride and resignation, which stamped 
her face with more beauty than ever it had 
known even in her girlhood days. 

Her mother’s anxiety about her was visible 
in her face. She had aged greatly, which wor- 
ried Jane not a little, as she knew her mother’s 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


43 


uncomplaining nature, which only added to 
her anxiety about her. 

After a short stay they departed, leaving 
sadness behind them and a forlorn cottage. 
Mirium had been kindly treated by them, but 
always with a tinge of doubt of what he had 
done during the long lapse of time when they 
knew not where was their daughter and what 
had happened to her. The mother made 
Mirium love her, as did everyone, for she 
was such a woman as one would expect to 
be the mother of such a daughter as Jane. 
He always spoke most affectionately of his 
wife. All this made Jane strive the harder 
to fill his life with every comfort, which she 
hoped would in part compensate for what 
she found it impossible to bestow. 

By this time little Emile was learning to 
like his father better, and to enjoy the stories 
he told him on all occasions when business did 
not demand his time; for although far from 
well, Mirium realized he must be the bread- 
winner, and took up his magazine writing, 
which afforded a handsome remittance, and 
made him happy in assisting his wife and 
child. Little did he know that from the very 
start his wife had provided against the wolf^s 
appearance by doing the finest needlework. 


44 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


which was disposed of by those friends at 
home who had always so loved her. Often 
vrhen she had made them comfortahle for the 
night, she would sit in the living room and 
work and think fondly of their good friend, 
the doctor, from whom she had not heard 
since he left them. 


CHAPTER X 


/^NE evening when not feeling well and her 
day’s work done she sat on the lawn out- 
side of the door, where the roses crept up, 
throwing out the sweetest perfume, and 
thought her life over, a life which she felt had 
been a failure. She was a picture of patience 
smiling at grief. Later, as the moon rose 
gradually before her, lending the charm it 
always does, this unatfected woman, always 
so natural, let her thoughts stray off to their 
good friend, the doctor. She felt so deeply all 
his kindness that, blushing, she admitted to 
herself that it was love. She did not know 
that her picture was so engraved upon his 
heart as to be always before him. He would 
often wonder if the dear ones ever thought 
of him, especially Jane. 

When the moon was about disappearing 
behind the hilltops, Jane rose and went to her 
room, but not before noticing that Mirium had 
been watching her, and upon her entrance he 
said in the sweetest way: Muddy dear,” 

her son’s name for her, ‘‘am I never to be 
forgiven; have I not been sufficiently pun- 
ished by self-reproach!” 

45 


46 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


She paused, extended him her hand and 
said: ^‘Tout vient en temps a lui qui sait 
attendre — wait and see/’ 

The next day when they were breakfasting 
the doctor drove up and overjoyed them all 
with his good cheer. His far-seeing eye told 
him the tale that fulfilling her duty had made 
Jane sutfer much; and, that sutfering in her 
case, like many others, had been with injuri- 
ous effects. 

He examined his patient, but did not find 
him doing as well as he had hoped. He gave 
some new directions and wanted to depart, 
but the entreaties of the little man of the 
house made him consent to spend the day and 
night, leaving on the early train the following 
morning. 

The day was passed, for the most part, with 
Emile, whom he found growing fast in strength 
of body and mind. Nothing done by Jane 
escaped him, and her Christian resignation 
and fortitude pained him, for he could see 
there was no love, and without that her daily 
duties' were fast sapping the life from her 
soul. 

Mirium told him that he despaired of ever 
gaining Jane’s forgiveness; and, but for his 
affliction he would leave her untrammeled, but 
providing for her and his child as long as 
his health was spared to him. 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


47 


The doctor tried to comfort him, but realized 
that it appeared as if his fears were justifiable. 
That evening when he had put Emile to bed 
he talked the little boy to sleep; and, then he 
and Jane strolled to the front of the cottage 
in the beautiful moonlight and let their hearts 
speak the one to the other in such language 
as only known to those who love. Byron ^s 
outpourings were not comparable to theirs, 
nor did Mary Chaworth lend a more willing 
ear. 

They were both honorable, hoping only to 
gain happiness by well doing, but the prom- 
ises made each other proved a solace to them 
both and enabled them to feel that God in 
His goodness would reward patience and long 
sutfering in His own way. 

There was nothing unwomanly in Janets 
behavior, but by and by self-reproach caused 
her tinges of conscience at the thought of his 
embrace' — the kiss of a pure man and woman. 
She felt herself a pure woman; and, derived 
from this thought the strength to continue in 
her noble Avork of duty. She was fortified by 
the letters which he promised to write her 
and the visits he would pay her whenever 
pnidence showed him that strength on the 
part of each one would enable them to avoid 
wrong. 

Neither of them slept much that night, the 


48 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


doctor in the room with the little man, Emile, 
Jane with Mirium, but it would seem that 
their hearts beat in one single pulsation and 
that they were truly happy. 

In the early morning the doctor left, carry- 
ing with him the sweetest New England prim- 
rose he ever possessed, culled by the fingers 
that pressed it in his hand, the hand that both 
hoped would some day be clasped as man and 
wife in the sight of God. 

His last words were ‘Gwo souls with but 
a single thought — two hearts that beat as 
one,^^ and until he was out of sight her loving 
eyes followed him. A more staunch sense of duty 
than ever seemed to impel her every move- 
ment from then on. The doctor had aroused 
her fears for the man who was her husband 
and father of her child, by saying his condition 
was one justifying anxiety and seeming to 
point to great suffering and not of long 
duration. And often when she saw twinges 
of suffering appear on Mirium ^s face she 
would force herself to be tender and loving, 
her example making their child the same. 

Sometimes, when all was still and quiet, she 
realized the man^s sincere repentance, trying 
to return to her heart and soul, lying awake 
suffering, and she would creep to his bedside 
and sooth as best she could his pains. If sleep 
came to her, it was to be accompanied by dis- 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


49 


turbed dreams and self-questions of the nature 
of her duty to him, how to be more generous, 
more forgiving, less resentful. She feared to 
think resentment was beneath all of her strug- 
gles to fulfill her duties to him. 


CHAPTER XI 


TN due course of time a letter came from the 
doctor, which was fond and loving, encour- 
aging her in the fulfillment of her duties, so 
that in after-life their happiness should not 
be blighted by a consciousness of gnilt. She 
had been noble and she must continue so to 
the end. Adversity is the acid that tests the 
gold of recollections, so trials are the fire that 
prove our strength. Some writer said : ‘ ‘ True 
in word, serious in duty, inquiring in doubt, 
self-controlled in anger, just and fair when 
the chair of success is before your door.^^ 
Dwell upon these words and let them help 
you in your efforts to act always wisely, 
thereby ever increasing the attachment of your 
friend, the doctor.’^ 

The letter was read and re-read until the 
lines were almost dim from handling. A girl 
would have worn it over her heart, but she, 
long since a woman, treasured it in her heart, 
and it was the means of making her better 
and happier than she had ever been. It is 
not necessary to give her reply. Her first 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


51 


outpouring might not coincide with your 
expectations, but we must be generous, remem- 
bering that a tried heart is sometimes thought- 
lessly unguarded. 

Probably, the doctor was familiar with 
Keats ^ letters to his sweetheart, Fanny 
Braune. They are so beautiful and touch- 
ing, only such as a sick and much in love 
man can write. Emile was beginning to have 
most inquiring ideas, and often his mother 
had to control them while hiding her smiles 
at the ludicrousness of them and diverting 
his thoughts into another channel. His love 
for the doctor was not suppressed by either 
Daddy or Muddy, and one of his delights was 
the thought of writing to the doctor all alone 
without aid from anyone. 

The beautiful spring weather was fast tend- 
ing its way towards them. Summer would 
be with them before they knew it, bringing 
the sweet singing birds and the lovely scenery 
for them to enjoy. Their small patch of 
ground, only a couple of acres, was like an 
exquisite moss carpet, save where a small 
portion had been converted into a vegetable 
garden, and that, too, was kept in perfect 
order. 

Uncle Jim, an old man from the neighbor- 
hood who was beloved by all and known by 
all under this name, came to them from time 


52 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


to time to do the hardest of their work; other- 
wise, it was Jane and little Emile who delighted 
in spending hours caring for what would be 
both nutritious and palatable to Mirium, as 
well as for the flowers to ornament their 
sweet home. They were planted where it was 
thought they would flourish the best, and the 
sunflower thrived so wonderfully that one 
was forced to think of Oscar Wild, as he 
always wore the largest one to be had in the 
days when he was listened to with both curi- 
osity and pleasure. Let us think of him as 
having given marked publicity to a beautiful 
flower, and having been the means whereby 
its medical properties became known. 

When Mirium was strong enough to walk 
alone he would stand gazing at them in won- 
derment, for it seemed to him his wife could 
do everything. Leaning against a nearby tree, 
the branches of which were covered with the 
sweet singing birds, the world he tried to 
think was dear to him in spite of its many 
disappointments. 

Reason is the only lantern in search of 
truth, and yet it so often leads to sadness. 

One day when the heavens covered them so 
beautifully with its opalescent hues, the birds 
were singing, the butterflies dancing through 
the air, and all was heavenly serene, his son, 
thinking lie might be weary, went to the cot- 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


53 


tage and bringing a chair placed it in the spot 
he loved best and then scampered off to Muddy. 
Here Mirium recalled to mind the following 
lines without an idea of their author, but 
they pleased him, and so may I hope they will 
please you: 

“The glory of life sang the birds, 

The strength of life called the trees, 

The beauty of life chanted the flower. 

The freshness of life foamed the brook. ’ ’ 

It was such a calm atmosphere that none 
of them wanted to leave the quiet to enter 
their sweet home, until it was time to prepare 
the evening meal and Mirium could see what 
delicacy Jane had prepared for him. 

Muddy hurried on ahead of them, while 
Emile took his father’s hand and began his 
usual questions with daddy. 

“How long will it be before you can throw 
away your sticks! Don’t you hate them old 
locomotives, for it was one of them that 
dragged your car into the creek and drowned 
so many of the passengers! I would not go 
on another train if I were you. And then 
that old whistle, it makes a-body deaf, and 
the bell for dinner, my, don’t it ring long 
and loud! Then the people that get out to 
eat when they come back say it wasn’t good 
at all. Me and Muddy had a basket of goodies 


54 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


that Aunt Jane filled full for us, and that kept 
us from being a bit hungry, and we gave some 
to the people near us, and they thought it 
mighty good/’ 

When they reached home a delightful meal 
was served by Jane, which attention made Mir- 
ium most happy. 

When the meal was over, Emile, boylike, 
went to feed the chickens, leaving Daddy and 
Muddy to talk about how lovely their home 
was, and they hoped the big trees surround- 
ing their sweet little cottage would keep it 
from being uncomfortably warm when the sum- 
mer weather came. 

While his wife was putting things to rights, 
Mirium watched her and made many atfec- 
tionate remarks, but which Jane could not 
answer in the same tone, and then each one 
settled down to their bread and butter tasks, 
as one might say; he using his pen, she allow- 
ing fancies to reign supreme while sewing. 
Their idol ran in and out, sometimes with a 
tiny chicken, again with a little dead bird 
which had fallen from a tree and was barely 
breathing, and with tears in his eyes asked 
if Muddy couldnT do something for it. 

Watching his tender little ways was proof 
conclusive to the mother that the child was 
full of feeling, and Jane sighed, saying to 
herself, ^‘He will suffer as I have done.’’ 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


55 


The beginning of wisdom is the knowledge 
of one^s self, and it is almost a fault to be 
too sensitive. You suffer and make those who 
love you do the same. 


CHAPTEE XII 


OT long after this Emile was bitten 
by something they thought a spider. His 
arm and hand swelled so rapidly, not yielding 
to their applications, that they became alarmed 
and sent for their good friend, the doctor, who 
arrived with the usual doctor’s case carried 
by country doctors, larger than those of the 
city, almost as big as a trunk. For a time 
grave results were apprehended, but skill and 
the careful nursing on the part of all three 
arrested the feared effects of blood poisoning. 

When the doctor thought he could be spared 
without risk to the child he spoke of leaving, 
but the little fellow, clinging fondly to him, 
made him hesitate and at his pleadings remain 
longer. 

Jane and he understood each other per- 
fectly, both being fine characters, with the 
strongest sense of right and wrong, so that 
nothing was to be feared, but when they were 
watching the child one night, when near the 
crisis, and the stillness was almost appalling, 
broken only by the labored breathing of the 
child, she put her head on the doctor’s shoul- 
der and said: 


56 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


57 


^^Save Mm, I pray you!’’ 

He pressed his lips to her hair and said: 
will, with God’s help, and that He will 
forgive us if we never err in duty and honor 
to your husband. 

At the dawn of day the little eyes opened 
and consciousness beamed from them, while 
his lips said: ‘‘Muddy.” Falling upon her 
knees, she promised God to forgive as she 
would wish to be forgiven, but she could not 
say that she could change the feelings of her 
tried heart. 

When the doctor left, his little patient was 
out of danger, and he promised to return soon. 
Stooping down to kiss the child, he saw him 
make an effort to put his arms around his 
neck. On rising, he turned to see the tears 
rolling dowm the cheeks of the woman he so 
loved. 

Mirium’s gratitude was expressed in the 
most manly way, but the doctor saw that in 
his feeble state anxiety had been most harm- 
ful to him. He stopped to prescribe some- 
thing soothing for him, hoping his sorrow 
could be lessened. 

When Jane’s attention was diverted from 
her child, she noticed more particularly her 
husband. It was with feelings of remorse she 
saw that he, too, had been suffering, and all 
alone. Approaching him, she said: 


58 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


‘^Mirium, God lias spared our child and 
made me see the errors of my ways. Forgive 
me, and I will strive to be in the future a 
more tender wife.^^ 

Trembling from weakness and joy, he 
embraced her as never before since their 
reunion. From that time Jane tried harder 
than ever to brighten his life in every way. 

Sometimes, as the little fellow grew stronger, 
Mirium would entertain him by chirping like 
the birds, croaking like the frogs, barking like 
the dogs, mewing like a cat, peeping like a 
chicken, etc., all of which he did well and 
caused great delight, so much that ‘ ‘ Muddy 
would have to insist on quiet lest Mirium 
would overtax his strength. 

When Emile was able to sit on the lawn 
they made a most happy picture, and the ever- 
observing child said one day: “Muddy, you 
love Daddy better, donT you, since I am well!^^ 

“0 yes, the longer he is home from his trav- 
els, the better I like him, don’t you?” 

The little fellow thought for a while, then 
said: “But he ought to have took us, and 
then I would know all about the fine things 
he saw and tells me about.” 

“Yes,” said his mother, “but you were too 
tiny then and had all the little baby pains 
and aches.” 

About this time Muddy suggested his bid- 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


59 


ding Daddy good-night and going to bed, for 
what the girls call beauty sleep, but with him 
it must be manly sleep. While she was 
undressing him she sang for the first time, 
the sweetest little songs with which she, in 
the days gone by, had lulled him to sleep, 
and he said: ‘‘Muddy, you feel real good, 
don^t you? It is a long time since I heard 
them, I almost forgot them.’’ 

And she replied: “God has been so good 
to us, my darling, especially when He did 
not take you away from us, that my heart is 
overjoyed.” 

“But,” said he, opening his eyes wide, “I 
thought it was our dear doctor who cured 
me.” 

“And so it was, dear one, but God showed 
him hov/ to do it.” 

“Then,” said he, “did he say, ‘thank you’?” 

“Of course he did, because he is a good 
man. ’ ’ 

When he was asleep the parents laughed 
over his many cute sayings, and then Jane told 
him all she and the doctor had done for the 
very ill child to keep the candle of life from 
going out. How often the doctor leaned over 
him and gave her a doubtful look when her 
heart would almost cease beating; how once 
he had said: “Men think their way through 


60 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


difficulties, while women feel them. Courage, 
Jane; while there is life there is hope.^’ 

^‘Can we ever forget what that good man 
did for us, or cease to love liimT^ As she 
said these words she felt her face flush. Many 
a true word is spoken lightly. Unfortunately, 
Jane’s heart was fulfilling all duties, and try- 
ing not to feed the fire of love too lavishly. 
She did all in her power to soothe his pains 
and make Mirium less sensitive over his dis- 
figurement. AYhat more could she do! Mir- 
ium was as happy as could be expected, and 
his only regret was that his health caused him 
anxiety and that he did not seem to be improv- 
ing as he had hoped. Jane herself was solicit- 
ous about him, but tried to keep up his spirits, 
doing all that she and Emile could do to 
entertain him. 


CHAPTER XIII 


T^UDDY had just finished all of her domes- 
tic duties; Emile was lying comfortably 
on the sitting room lounge. Mirium was at 
work with his writing, and Jane flurried from 
the effects of a restless night was seeking 
solace in the care of her roses. Spying a 
bunch of daffodils the old gardener had 
planted, now growing so beautifully, she stood 
and recalled what Marcus Aurelius had said 
of them: ‘Hf you have two loaves of bread, 
sell one and buy daffodils, for bread nourishes 
the body, but daffodils delight the soul.’^ 

She had been a brilliant girl at school, and 
her fondness for flowers made her a lover of 
botany. She stood examining the stamens and 
pistils of a daffodil, so when the doctor 
approached lightly over the grass she did not 
hear him until he spoke to her. 

Jane, turning, gave him both her hands, 
letting the flower drop, which he picked up 
and placed in his pocket, still holding her hand 
while their eyes read the tale of their hearts, 
thus avoiding words which would have been 
false to their promises. He had seen her 
61 


62 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


from afar and joined her before entering the 
house. 

Mirium had witnessed the meeting, which 
caused his heart to twinge with jealousy, but 
he asked himself how it could be otherwise, 
Avhen for so long the doctor had been so much 
to them both. He strove to control himself, 
but his manner was less genial than usual, 
which the doctor ascribed to his physical 
condition. 

Emile was all love and affection for him, 
and asked him some of his father riddles; 
the one was: Why is a stone in a road like 
a dog’s tail? 

‘‘Oh, I forgot. Daddy.” 

He told him because it stops a wagon. 

“I had been thinking of that to tell you, 
and see I forgot it.” 

When the doctor was alone with Mirium he 
told him he must not overtax the little fellow’s 
brain with too much study. 

“I never imagined a child could study too 
much,” replied Mirium. 

“But you realize now that he must only 
be told baby stories.” The little fellow had 
some fever, and on that account the doctor 
remained, taking the midnight train. 

Mirium ’s limb was not improving and caused 
him great pain at times, but the doctor encour- 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


63 


aged him and gave him something to relieve 
his pain as much as possible. 

Parting between them was mere handshak- 
ing. 

Muddy slept with her little man that night, 
having feared even with an open door she 
might not hear Mirium should he need her, but 
morning found him much better as a result of 
the doctor’s remedy. ' 

Then came a letter from an admiring friend 
she met when she was teaching at Mrs. 
Fisher’s : 

“Dear Jane: 

“At last I have found you after a long search. I 
may not have endeared myself to you, as you did 
yourself to me; and, therefore, it is more than likely 
you have never thought of me, but I have of you, 
always wondering why some of us never heard from 
you. What had become of her? I would always 
say, ‘Well, I will not give up until I have found her.’ 

“Now, you will remember me, for I am the girl 
you said ought to be called ‘Miss Never Give Up.’ 
You see that it is sometimes deductive of good results, 
as I have found your hiding place and I know you 
want to ask me how. Well, I won’t prolong the agony 
of curiosity. 

‘ ‘ I was not well so mother brought .me here, to 
Capon Springs, Virginia, where the doctor in attend- 
ance is a friend of yours. How strange life is after 
all. As I was recovering I told him I was a graduate 
of Mrs. Fisher’s school, and I saw the sparkle in his 
eye which led to my hearing all about you. All, no 
not half, T want to know, so please sit right down 


64 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


and tell me all that is agreeable to yon, and I won^t 
ask for more. 

“Maybe, if you ask me to come and see you I will 
when I am strong, and 0, the fun we will have talk- 
ing about old times. Mother says I talk like 
Methuselah. 

“I won’t write any more until I hear from you, 
except to say that Dr. Rath is splendid! 

“Polly.” 

The mail-carrier did not stop at the cottage 
often and when he did it was quite an event, 
usually to take or leave something pertaining 
to Mirium’s writing or letters from her home 
folks, ^s their lives were uneventful, letters 
w^ere scarce. 

Jane at once recognized the strange yet 
familiar writing of the girl who had been one 
of her favorite pupils, and hastily opened the 
letter and reading it Avith the greatest pleas- 
ure, as she remembered the girl as a sun- 
beam. Now she was a full-fledged young lady, 
and to think of her still caring for her. 

Jane sat long with the letter in her hand 
thinking of what a joy it would be to have 
Polly come to visit her and hear wdiat every- 
one thought of her dear friend, the doctor. 

Whereupon Jane hastily replied as follows: 
‘ ‘ My dear Polly : 

“Your sweet letter fell in our midst like the explo- 
sion of some powerful meteor. I never dreamed of 
being remembered or loved by any one of the dear 
ones at Mrs. Fisher’s, where some of the happiest and 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


65 


saddest days of my life were spent. As I sat looking 
at your clear, pretty writing, 1 said : ‘ And this from 
Polly, who I always felt like telling — Polly put the 
kettle on the fire and let’s all drink tea.’ Think of 
it, so near and yet so far, for I am tied down with a 
sick husband, not yet recovered from a railroad acci- 
dent and our little sunbeam had a narrow escape from 
blood poisoning and is still ill. This would prevent 
my taking the somewhat long trip to you, besides, 
dear one, 1 live the life of a recluse from choice. 

‘‘Hurry up and get well so you can come to me, 
at least for a day. Let me know by note when I shall 
have the pleasure so, as they say in the country — 
‘Your name may be in the pot’ — I may have on my 
prettiest white apron and a bowl of our prettiest new 
primroses may welcome you with their delicious per- 
fume, as we ourselves whose hearts will be glad. 

“I shall be most impatient to see you and show 
you our little cottage home, which was called ‘Love 
in a cottage’ when we started out, but ill luck took 
my husband on a long journey and when I saw him 
next it was after a severe accident, which caused me 
to bring him back to our ‘love nest’ a great sufferer 
and a much changed man. 

“When you come to us and we enjoy my favorite 
seat, where the young daffodils are struggling to sur- 
pass the roses of many years’ growth, we’ll have lots 
to talk of, dear girl, and you, no doubt, will be able 
to produce from the nearest spot to your heart a 
locket, the contents of which will tell its own tale, all 
entwined in couleur de rose fancies, and you will 
want to confide all your day dreams. Is that not so, 
dear one? 

“Well, let us wait and see what my ideas of life 
are, how they compare with yours, you who have 


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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


always had a silvery lining to your life, never a rip- 
ple along the way, no boisterous seas upon which your 
bark was tossed. You have said with Tom Moore: 

“My boat is on the shore, 

And my bark is on the sea. 

But before I go, Tom Moore, 

Here’s a double cup to thee. 

“Well, dear one, all I can advise is to think long 
and hard before branching out on life’s uncertain 
pathway. It is wise to take reason and patience in 
your right hand, and hope in your left. 

“A delicate, tender plant must have something 
lasting to cling to. Remember, dear girl, that love 
is a power within the soul and links it to all good 
things. It is the breath of Heaven, but how care- 
fully must it be guarded. Know well the man of your 
choice, and happiness will be yours. 

“Good night, dear one, over whose life there has 
never been a cloud. I must be ‘Muddy’ to you as I 
am to all others. Jane is synonymous of pain, though 
a name association has made it very dear to me, for 
my name is that of my mother, Martha Jane. 

“ Alfectionately, “Jane ” 

The letter was mailed the first time the car- 
rier passed, at least put in his bag, and then 
she awaited impatiently for a reply, hoping 
that Polly would be able to come to her. Not 
only did she wish to renew their acquaintance 
for the sake of Auld Lang Syne, but she was 
anxious to hear all about her love affair and 
to see the dear one in her moment of delight, 
having known her as a dear, well named Polly, 
for she was a harum-scarum piece that every- 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


67 


one loved and wanted to enjoy her overflow 
of spirits. 

At the expiration of ten days the carrier 
brought the anxiously expected letter, which 
began as one might expect: 

“Dear Jane: 

“The doctor tells me that I may go to you, so I 
am off tomorrow on the train as far as it will take 
me, and after that I must trust to luck, but I have 
an idea that our mutual friend will get me there if 
only just to see our meeting and find out how much 
love is left between us after our long separation. 
I am just hungry to see you, and my ! the good talks 
we will have. Well, I must fly or mamma will not 
put half enough clothes in my trunk. She wants me 
to make such a short visit, but indeed I won’t! If 
you are as dear as ever and your husband is not one 
of the jealous kind, then maybe while I am with you, 
my violet-eyed true love will come and see me, and 
let you see what you think of him. We both would 
like to be where mamma is not always seeing us out 
of the comers of her eyes. I want you to tell me 
what you think of him. It must be something good, 
for his people although rich have an idea that he 
will study for the ministry. Think of it, Polly, the 
wife of a minister! I can see you laugh, for while I 
do try to be good it goes mighty hard and I fancy him 
laughing over the effort I make to edify his parents; 
but it is hard and may not carry to the end. Here 
I am, scratching away as if I were not going to see 
you most likely before this reaches you. But never 
mind, you can read it and think of all the good times 
that are coming when we are all alone, and realize 
that time has not matured Polly to any great extent. 

‘ ‘ Y ours affectionately, ‘ ‘ Polly. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XIV 


'^EXT morning found Polly’s mother seeing 
her off at the station and giving the usual 
motherly instructions. Little did she know that 
the doctor was in another car bound for the 
same place Avithout making himself knownri, 
rather invisible until they landed in the little 
station where they both alighted, and much 
to her relief drove her in a rather antiquated 
rig to the home of Jane, Here he witnessed 
such a lot of hugging and kissing that made 
his heart glad, ‘ although he, the dear doctor, 
did not receive the usual attention, so 
engrossed were they with each other. Jane, 
the true woman that she was, soon took Polly 
to see her husband, whose consciousness of his 
disfigurement made him most retiring, but 
ready to welcome her. The boy was over- 
joyed to have a visitor, and Polly tried to 
make him remember her, although he was a 
tiny tot little more than an infant when she 
had known him and last seen him. Polly 
soon accustomed herself to everything and 
tried to act as if she were accustomed to all 
household duties by rolling up her sleeves and 
doing whatever she was allowed to do in the 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


69 


kitchen, which was most amusing. While Jane 
never spotted a garment, poor Polly was a 
sight in a short time, but she would laugh and 
say, ‘Won see I am preparing to be a min- 
ister's wife and to know how to feed his flock. 
In starting out we will have to have a laun- 
dress at any rate, but after a while I will be 
neat as Jane. Don’t you all think so?” How 
they did laugh watching her, and then the 
doctor having to apply a lotion to a burned 
Anger would say, ‘‘You will have to have a 
doctor in your family. May I apply for the 
position?” 

“0, yes, but then I think my lord and mas- 
ter would be jealous of you.” 

The doctor remained two nights and a day. 
He found Mirium failing fast, physically, 
though in far better spirits, and knew that 
Jane had been acting the noble woman in 
thanks to God’s mercy in sparing her child. 

Polly, though giddy and impulsive, had 
really a level head, so the last night the doc- 
tor was with them she said: 

“I wish you two would go otf and talk over 
the health of your invalids while I stay and 
put Emile to bed, and I will then entertain 
Mirium. ’ ’ 

It ended in her affording a perfect lark for 
them all, for Polly was a Ane mimick and full 
of tricks of all kinds, besides being a good 


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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


story-teller. Soon her two trusted friends 
were in a gale of laughter, and in the dis- 
traction the two strayed away from the cot- 
tage enjoying the moonlight. They knew Polly 
and well appreciated the fun she was afford- 
ing, while the doctor in his considerate way 
was preparing Jane for what he feared must 
occur before long. He saw her husband’s 
health was failing fast, his condition aroused 
his anxiety, being what he feared from the 
start. 

Extending his hand to her, she took it and 
then looking him in the face said seriously: 
have tried to do my duty and comfort 

him.” 

^‘1 know that you have done so, and you 
have made him happy as possible. My dear 
Jane, no one could expect more from you than 
you are doing, and I am proud of you, but 
we must not forget our promise to each other.” 

Though he pressed her hand and kissed a 
curly lock which fell on her temple, she felt 
the color mount to her face, though she did 
not repulse him. 

Walking slowly to the cottage, they could 
hear joyous voices, and the doctor warned her 
against showing any anxiety, so they entered 
the house and tried to be equally gay with 
the others. 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


71 


Jane had an excuse for liiding her feelings 
when she said: 

‘‘Naughty Polly, you have awakened my 
patients so that I fear neither of them will 
sleep a wink/’ 

“Well,” said Polly, “you can sing lullabys 
to Mirium while I do so to Emile.” 

The doctor spoke and said: 

“Where do I come in?” 

“0, you may play the owl and perch your- 
self on my window-sill when you think I’m 
dosing off, and I will awaken and fancy my 
true love is watching over me.” 

They had been so unusually gay the night 
before that Jane allowed them to oversleep 
themselves next morning, while she and the 
doctor breakfasted. Then he left her after 
saying what he had told her was only to pre- 
pare her for what she must do if the worst 
came. That it was not to alarm her unnec- 
essarily, for even the most experienced doc- 
tors are often mistaken in diagnosing cases. 

“So hold onto your courage, dear Jane, and 
know that I shall be ever ready to come to 
you and soothe his sufferings, for I pity him 
for all the misery he brought upon himself, 
poor fellow. He worships you, but how could 
it be otherwise. Gott schutse dis meine liebe. ’ ’ 

And he was off. 

Jane busied herself getting things ready for 


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an unusually good breakfast, but slie was deep 
in thought. Polly crept in upon her and 
kissed the back of her neck as she was bent 
over the stove, saying: 

^^You dearest of women, how I do love you 
and appreciate all that you have suffered, 
though you are as quiet as a mouse. Now I 
shall go and cut some of your dear roses 
for the table. By that time breakfast will 
be ready and our usual ^partie quare’ on 
hand. See that the cakes are good and hot, 
as I still love them as much as when we 
were at Mrs. Fisher’s and making such a 
noise that we were often called to order.” 

Out she flew through the door singing an 
old time song, while tying her sunbonnet under 
her chin, and soon she was seen among the 
arbutus vines and rosebushes, their perfume 
being wafted to the cottage. Her thin skirts 
blowing hither and thither showed shapely feet 
shod in slippers and stockings to correspond. 

Soon Jane’s voice called out, ‘‘Breakfast 
is ready, and I have two hungry people await- 
ing you. When did one ever see a boy with- 
out an appetite and the sight of a pretty, 
rosy-cheeked maiden always sharpens it.” 

All were merry. Even poor Jane, with her 
world of care was most happy in having dear 
Polly with her, even vowdng that Polly should 
never put the kettle on the fire, no matter how 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


73 


long slie stayed and tliat they would never 
want her to say good-bye. 

Polly was such a tomboy with all her sweet- 
ness, and before long she was found perched 
on the branch of one of the trees singing, 
^^Chere petit Rosignol comme je pous aime,” 
while she held a bird in her hand, making 
them all wonder how she had ever reached so 
high a spot, and Emile begging her not to 
let it fly away. There was nothing but hap- 
piness while she was with them. 


CHAPTER XV 


^HE second evening after her arrival, along 
about twilight, her Adonis arrived, for such 
she would call him, and it was evident that 
he deserved the name. She attempted to play 
hide and seek with him, secreting herself in 
the hollow of an old tree, but little hoys can 
be induced to talk when candy is in sight, 
and so it was she was found in the opening 
of the tree, festooned with lovely American 
beauties, the perfume of which had such a 
magic effect that we will not tell the tale of 
what the twilight saw. 

It was long before they returned to the cot- 
tage, and then Mr. Solan was formally intro- 
duced. He produced a box of the choicest bon- 
bons, of which they all partook while listening 
to the merry chatter of the sweethearts, for 
whom they were considerate enough to leave 
alone before their absence was desired. 

Emile v/as tucked away with Polly, and his 
room cheerfully surrendered to the Candy 
Man, so that when the clock struck twelve, 
much to Mr. Solanos surprise, he was shown 
to a snug little room, with everything pre- 
pared for his comfort. 


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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


75 


He had contemplated walking to the hotel, 
having a scant idea how far away it was, 
but next day, hearing that he might have had 
to walk till daylight, he doubly appreciated 
their hospitality. Polly, with her usual mis- 
chief, made him pronounce the breakfast fine, 
which she had prepared for him, and she 
added : 

^‘Tell pa and ma that I won’t make such 
a bad minister’s wife after all.” 

He laughed heartily, as he had not at all 
determined to follow his devoted parents’ 
desire of becoming a minister. 

Mr. Solan, though a man of means, that is 
to say, his parents had always been pos- 
sessed of an independence, managed to lead 
a busy life. He had a far more passive and 
quiet nature than Polly, though able to enjoy 
a joke; but was dignified and composed to 
such an extent that one almost marveled at 
his choice. It was easy to discover that his 
admiration for Polly was very great. 

The following day the mail-carrier stopped 
with something which spoiled Miss Polly’s 
pleasure. Mr. Solan received orders to return 
to the city. Polly, never slow to extend sym- 
pathy, soon found that the poor letter-carrier 
was all wrought up over the fact that his 
schatz had never been heard from since she 
left for their ^^Vaterland” to take care of 


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the wounded, and he was wasting away with 
anxiety, if that is possible for a German 
to do. 

Polly ingratiated herself in his favor by 
saying her sympathies were with him. A lit- 
tle white lie, but as she said: ^‘What mat- 
ter if it makes the blood in his heart tingle?” 

That day was spent as we can imagine, 
‘^unter den Linden,” or the nearest thing to 
it, and all of us who have been there can 
recall many pleasing things. 

As Mr. Solan bade his host and hostess good- 
bye, with many thanks for their hospitality, 
he asked Jane to encourage Polly in acceding 
to his wishes regarding the time for their 
marriage. Then turning to the little man of 
the family he said: 

‘AVhat candy do you like best?” 

The reply was: ‘MPs all mighty good.” 

Polly went as far with him as she could, 
considering that she had to return on foot 
and there was no promise of moonlight. 

Polly did not open the note which accom- 
panied the package which soon came from 
him. She knew it would be a reminder for 
her to return as soon as possible. The pack- 
age itself was some fine wine for the invalid 
and a beautiful knife for Emile, with the 
injunction not to spoil any of Mammals furni- 
ture or trees, which made the little boy open 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


77 


his eyes and say: guess not; there won^t 

be any more when they are gone/^ 

This made Polly sad, as she felt already 
the little fellow saw that luxuries would soon 
be a thing of the past. No doubt he in time 
would smooth the pathway for his lonely 
mother, whom Polly loved every moment of 
her stay the more. Once she said : ‘ ‘ Dear old 
girl,’’ — that was her pet name for Jane — ‘‘I 
love to stay here so much that when we are 
married we shall have a shack just at the 
end of your place; in the corner where the 
sunflowers grow so wildly, and I will love them 
more than ever, almost as much as did Oscar 
Wild. All my household effects will be 
embroidered with them, but I know you would 
wish primroses upon yours. 

‘‘I wonder if there is a perfume made of 
the sunflower, and what it would be like; I 
fear it could not do the flower justice. Well, 
never mind, it is a glorious flower all the 
same. I wonder how they would look worn 
by my bridesmaids. Let us take the thought 
under consideration. ’ ’ 

After discussing the charms of her intended, 
she talked a little of her trousseau, but not 
very much, for Polly attached far less impor- 
tance to clothes and finery than her mother, 
who had an experience dans le grand monde 
abroad when Polly was in short clothes and 


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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


enjoying the goat wagons on the Champs- 
Elysees, Polly, after her rides and fun with 
the little French girls, would come home and 
send her parents off in roars of laughter at 
her description of what she saw and did. 

Polly would say: like simple things 

better than having my toilet-stand so full I 
can hardly find space for a hatpin. Solan 
has always seen the most elegant side of life 
the same as my humble self, but he, man- 
like, has not had the time to tire of it and, of 
course, must be indulged. Now, please tell 
me why his parents have selected the goody 
side of life for him! 

‘‘I lay in bed last night thinking how I 
would surprise my friends when I shall fit 
up my little shack (0, I forgot I must say 
our and not my, to be reminded of the story 
of Socrates Snooks when he said: ‘Our wife 
may we put on our Sunday breeches!’)- I 
have thought everything should be of tin 
instead of silver, highly polished, so that some 
poor wretch passing by shall not be tempted 
to swipe it. Don’t you remember, reverting 
to Socrates, how he trembled in his boots 
and was only too glad to retire beneath the 
bed and make his exit only after gaining his 
wife’s permission! I shall strive not to have 
my husband afraid of me ; and I will be 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


79 


perfectly willing to say: ‘Our chickens and 
our farmyard. ’ Everything must he ours from 
the start, and so one bone of contention will 
be avoided.’’ 


CHAPTER XVI 


TANE took in all she said with great pleas- 
^ lire, and her heart was full of the hope 
that none of Polly ^s bright dreams would be 
shattered. They combined in their efforts 
to make Mirium’s life happy, for they both 
realized that he was a most delicate and sen- 
sitive man. Mirium realized his condition and 
dreaded leaving his wife, as he knew he must 
before many days, but her attentions and 
kindness to him soothed his declining days, 
and he often thought: believe she has for- 

given me. 

’Twas Jane’s wish to create such an impres- 
sion, thereby affording him solace and her- 
self a longed-for peace of mind. 

Polly w^as most happy in this sweet, simple 
life. Soon she was reminded by her mother 
that there was danger of outstaying her wel- 
come. She hoped her mother was mistaken, 
especially when at times she could aid Jane 
in the care of Mirium, and so she stayed on 
until Solan wrote and said he feared he would 
have to go for her. However, this was obvi- 
ated by the doctor’s being called to see Mirium, 
where he remained a few days and then ful- 
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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


81 


filled his promise to Polly ^s mother by bring- 
ing her home. 

Separation was made easier by Polly 
promising to pay them another visit before 
she returned to her home. She had always 
adored, one might say, Jane, and, of course, 
loved her dear child, so full of boyish pranks 
and at the same time a little man. Again, 
her deepest sympathy was given the poor man, 
whose errors of early life had cast a gloom 
over his declining years. 

The doctor cared for his patient while Polly 
was packing and bidding farewell to all the 
dear spots, and when they parted she carried 
to her mother from them all a box of the most 
beautiful New England primroses. As she 
\vas stored away in the queer little antique 
conveyance, and the doctor was assuring him- 
self that the trappings were all safe, trunk 
on the back, etc., Jane and Polly were talking 
affectionately of the visit she would soon 
return to pay, and ‘‘my little man,^’ as she 
had christened the child, who listened with 
wide open eyes and ears. 

The horse was too gentle for them to antici- 
pate danger, but the prudent doctor would 
not go far from them, and calling Jane to the 
head of the horse, gave her necessary final 
instructions about her husband, while the 


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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


little man’’ ingratiatecl himself more than 
ever in Polly’s favor. 

The doctor pressed Jane’s hand and said: 

Courage, dear Jane,” then took his seat at 
the side of Polly, who, laughing, said: ‘‘Now, 
where is the rice!” And olf they drove, not 
with a dash, for the horse was none too spry, 
besides being hea^ly laden, and a very sad 
vacancy was left in the cottage. 

Mirium’s and Polly’s parting had been sad 
indeed, though with her overflowing spirits the 
gloom of her heart was hidden, and she warned 
him that he was not to forget their plans 
which were to be carried out when she 
returned. 

AVhen Jane entered her husband’s room he 
said: 

‘ ‘ I am both sorry and happy, my dear wife ’ ’ 
(a name so seldom given her that she was 
most surprised). “Sorry because Polly is 
such a dear woman, and happy because I feel 
I can now have more of you without being 
selfish. ’ ’ 

The remainder of the day both mother and 
son gave themselves up to him, but a feeling 
of unusual loneliness came over them both, 
especially Jane as twilight approached. There 
was a feeling of warning, that took posses- 
sion of them, and after her son had gone to 
bed and her husband was having a restless 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


83 


sleep she sought solace in recalling the prayers 
she said before rebellion had eaten its way 
into her heart, making her feel that her life 
had been a failure. Cheerless were her 
thoughts, and though she knew sleep was 
soothing to him, the sound of his voice raised 
the veil of gloom, and while he was telling 
her little things he wished her to do and she 
was striving to banish the gloomy thoughts, 
an owl perched itself on the window-sill and 
with its melancholy ‘Svoo, woo’’ caused a 
shiver to pass through them both. 

The breaking of morn, its effort to bring 
forth light is sad enough in itself, but when 
the light of Life’s Lamp is struggling against 
extinction, the mournful reality of how that 
end must come to us all brings true reflection 
and makes us enter into ourselves. 

Their efforts to drive away the owl were 
futile, and when the sufferer, whose days 
seemed to be numbered, pressed his wife’s 
hand it was only to say: 

^^Dear, he comes as a warning that I may 
have time to pour forth my heart’s love 
bathed in regrets.” 

“I mourn not that the desolate 
Are happier, sweet, than I, 

But that you sorrow for my fate. 

Who am a passer by.” 


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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


Tears flowed in spite of herself, and at the 
door she beheld her son, who, entering, said: 

‘‘Daddy, I love you and don’t mind you 
not taking us on your long trip; maybe you 
did not have money enough.” 

The dear boy’s innocence and lack of knowl- 
edge of the seriousness of his surroundings 
made his mother reach out to him. She put 
his hand into his father’s, while she soothed 
the brow of the dying man and longed for 
daylight to break forth on this dismal scene. 
Her heart cried out for their ever-ready friend, 
the doctor, who seemed to feel that he was 
wanted. 

At break of day a whispering voice aroused 
the doctor from much needed sleep, as he 
had been most of the night with patients. 
Not waiting a moment he sprang to his feet, 
dressed and breakfasted and was soon on the 
road to the bedside of the dying man, which 
he only reached in time to prolong the light 
of the candle and witness the parting of two 
who had learned to feel that the fond love 
for their oif spring had brought them together 
and rekindled a love which once burned 
ardently and now had Heaven’s blessing. 


CHAPTER XVII 


^HE parting was agonizing, as such things 
must be, hut the sting of sorrow and pain 
was less, as the noble doctor, reading the 
prayers of the departing, relieved the agony 
of the dying man to the best of his ability. 

Polly, who had been notified of the condi- 
tion of Mirium, came to her friend with all 
possible speed, but the kindest of friends had 
soothed their aching hearts. He took Emile 
to bed with him, for the boy’s grief was 
beyond control, and the poor wife, with great- 
est efforts, acting the part of a heroine, went 
forth with Uncle Jim, the old man who had 
helped in the yard, to direct the digging of 
the grave as her husband had wished to 
have it. Returning to the house, she seated 
herself beside the coffin, and there in the 
stillness of the night, with one lone star shin- 
ing through an open window, she asked for- 
giveness of all she had left undone and 
prayed for His guidance in her future life. 

In this gloomy stillness Polly found her, 
and taking her in her arms, love’s strongest 
tie was sealed between them, and tears flowed 
from the eyes of one of God’s noblest crea- 
85 


86 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


tures, who was ever ready to see herself in 
the wrong. 

The doctor’s sense of delicacy made him 
abstain from intrusion of any kind, but the 
evening before the funeral he took Emile to 
his father’s side, where his mother was seated. 
There he told him in his own sweet, natural 
way to say ‘^good-bye to Daddy” and promise 
to lead such a life as would unite them in 
another and better world. 

Jane, putting her hand in his, said: 

^^Mirium wanted us to love each other and 
care for his boy.” The doctor, leaning down, 
kissed her brow and then walked out under 
Heaven’s starry canope. 

Jane’s people had come to her, and with 
them friends to bear Mirium to his last rest- 
ing place; but, even her own people did not 
know of her suffering and how she had tried 
to do her duty. 

As Mirium was being consigned to his 
grave, the birds chirped and sang, so that his 
son asked his mother that night when he was 
nestling in her arms if that did not mean 
that they were going to Heaven with Daddy. 

just love them. Muddy, because he loved 
them, and then he won’t be so lonesome with- 
out you and me.” 

Polly was only with them a few days, and 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


87 


this time she showed what a truly noble girl 
she was. When leaving, she said: 

‘‘Jane, my first visit after my marriage will 
be to you, as I am not going to take a honey- 
moon trip. Ours will be such a simple out- 
ing that no one will know we are bride and 
groom, and we will see you before many a 
day. ’ ’ 

Among those who came to console Jane was 
a man who had never had other love than 
that for her, but which she had never consid- 
ered for a moment. Even the thought of him 
had not entered her mind, but it was a case 
of “faint heart ne^er won fair lady’’ with 
him, and his farewell to her was not without 
its sting of regret, for she knew he had not 
forgotten her. 

AVhen all had departed save her mother, it 
was most lonely, but soon the doctor came to 
look after them and see what could be done 
to cheer her lonely life when her mother had 
gone. Jane would not listen to leaving their 
home; said returning would only be sadder 
and that with her sparse means prudence must 
be their guide, but she did consent to have 
one of the doctor’s patients, a lady of great 
refinement, come to her. 

Thus she started out again in life, under 
the shadow of her first love’s resting place, 
which she and his child, his two loved ones. 


88 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


kept covered with flowers. She often talked 
of Emile with the doctor about his now reach- 
ing the school age. The thought saddened 
her, and she always banished the feeling 
saying : 

‘‘But it is not yet necessary, he is too 
young.'' 

Polly's wedding was saddened by the thought 
of what her friend was passing through. The 
love of all her friends was showered upon 
her, remembrances of all kinds being sent her. 

Jane had determined to make for herself a 
set of sunflower mats, of which she had spoken 
with such interest, but as yet they were not 
begun. Polly knew well that the tenderest 
and most loving of her heart's pulsations came 
to her from her dear friend, whom she fairly 
worshipped. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


TI) OLLY had been so frank and natural with 
her hnsband’s family that the Solans soon 
had learned to love her, and not to wonder 
at their son Trevis’ devotion for her. 
Although her nature was frank to a degree, 
there never was anything to lead her lover’s 
people to fancy she favored the ministry for 
his life’s choice; indeed, she treated it as a 
mistaken idea, though she would, laughingly, 
tell them the lessons she had taken in a wife’s 
course while she was visiting her dear friend, 
and which had cost her several blistered fin- 
gers and ruined aprons. Nevertheless, she 
had begun to fit herself for the caretaking 
of his flock; and if there were no effort by 
them to quell the exuberance of her spirits, 
she .thought in time she could learn to become 
of assistance to him, even in leading the sing- 
ing of hymns. 

When Jane was alone she would laugh heart- 
ily at the thought of Polly so well fitted to 
put the kettle on the fire and let all drink tea, 
caring for the sending of souls to Heaven. 
Trevis had upon one occasion, greatly to her 
relief, assured her that no man who had given 
89 


90 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


his heart to a woman so completely as he had 
done, could ever be absolved by thoughts of 
God. 

Polly said: ‘^The mapping out of my life 
is in your hands for better or for worse. 
You have such an offhanded way about you 
that our poor courtship has been rather pro- 
saic; and I fear many tender passages pent 
up in my heart will have to wait the day until 
I shall be more of a necessity to you.^’ Turn- 
ing to Trevis, she put her hand on his shoulder, 
saying: ^‘You know the story of love me 
little, love me long. Let this be ever remem- 
bered and I will ask for nothing more, Trevis 
dear. ^ ^ 

The wedding was as brilliant as she would 
permit it to be, and their departure was 
shrouded in the usual secrecy. They went to 
‘^Watkins Glen,’^ where strolling through 
romantic walks Polly would find pleasure in 
listening to the whispering of a true lover ^s 
heart. 

It was a case of 

“But then it was a calmer spell 
Like moonlight on my spirit fell.’' 

There they remained for ten days, and then 
wound their way to Jane’s home. She made 
them so welcome that it seemed a veritable 
honeymoon. The time was spent in laying 
off the ground at the end of her lot where 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


91 


sunflowers were to vie with New England 
primroses for supremacy. 

It so happened when they arrived, Janets 
companion, the doctor’s patient, had been 
called away, so that they were happily alone, 
without a curious intruder, and though Jane 
was not of the style of the present day, even 
in her grief she welcomed them most warmly. 
Little Emile said: ‘‘How good you were to 
come to ‘Muddy.’ She gets mighty lonesome 
sometimes, and the doctor don’t come as often 
as we would like.” Polly laughed and said: 
“Now we will send for him and see how long 
we can keep him.” It was some time since 
Jane’s bereavement, and her quiet, peaceful 
life with so much Christian resignation had 
restored much of her beauty. Along her tem- 
ples grew in soft waves pretty, wavy hair 
slightly threaded with silver, peeping through 
rich auburn locks. No wonder, for one who 
had had so much sorrow, and as Polly kissed 
and embraced her most fondly tears rested 
upon her lovely lashes, but they were tears 
shed in the glamour of happiness. 


CHAPTER XIX 


^ RE VIS was soon made to realize he was 
one of them, and Polly’s voice, ringing with 
laughter, brought good cheer to the desolate 
home. The next morning whilst ‘‘Muddy” 
was preparing breakfast he took them to 
“Daddy’s” grave, and showed them where 
every evening he and “Muddy” came to say 
their prayers. “Now we won’t have to do it 
any more,” said the little fellow. “It makes 
me so lonesome, and when the birds sing I 
say my prayers louder so Daddy will be sure 
to hear me the better.” Both Trevis and 
Polly were so sorry for the poor little fellow 
that they told him that they soon would have 
a little house near him, and that he could come 
and pop corn when he was lonesome and sit 
by a big log fire. 

Breakfast was then called by a sweet voice 
as they neared the house, and a delightful meal 
served on the table from which came the fra- 
grance of Jane’s favorite flower, the prim- 
rose, adorning the centre of the table in a 
rustic basket made by her deft fingers. These 
flowers had always been Jane’s joy and hap- 
piness and her solace in affliction, so that 
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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


93 


the sight of them brought smiles to their 
faces and made all again happy. 

Emile sat in his father ^s chair, and Polly, 
to make things more cheerful, blurted out some 
gibberish, which she said was Chinese grace, 
making them all laugh in spite of tliemselves. 
During the meal their plans for the bungalow 
were discussed, and it was decided to do 
nothing without first conferring with their 
dear friend, the doctor, who Polly said would 
be with them before long. Sure enough, that 
evening he came as the moon shed its glori- 
ous rays over the little group gathered on a 
beautiful, mossy carpet beneath a tall, majestic 
pine tree, a landmark of the place, whose wav- 
ing branches called to Janets mind the fol- 
lowing sad lines : 

‘ ‘ And the dark, rock pines. 

Their tossing waves o’er his bier to wave, 

And God’s own hand in that lonely land 
To lay him in his grave.” 

She was forced to recall these lines, for 
not far away was a little mound covering 
the remains of their dear one, whose rashness 
had caused so many thorns to spring up in 
the pathway of their lives. 

Polly’s exuberance of spirits made her keep 
all hearts aglow with happiness, all the more 
now when she saw the sad thoughts that had 
come to Jane’s mind due to their surround- 


94 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


ing. An account was given by them of beau- 
tiful Watkins Glen, which has every style of 
scenery — ravines, springs, and rushing waters 
which flow over fallen, decayed trees, resting 
on mossy banks, over which reach out 
branches of majestic trees so far above you 
that the heavenly canopy which covers all, is 
almost lost to sight. The ripple of waters is 
the sweetest music to the eager ear and a 
solace to the saddest heart. 

^^Jane, just fancy your heedless Polly in 
that romantic atmosphere, and can you believe 
it, I lent a willing ear to the outpouring of 
my lover’s heart. Then Trevis put his arm 
about me and said: ‘Polly, you have never 
before been your own sweet self, but I knew 
you and realized age would inspire wisdom, 
with a noble heart already there.’ I found 
on thinking to myself that the serious side 
of life was beginning to dawn upon me, and 
that I, Polly, must have some sensible moments, 
instead of always wanting to laugh and be 
merry. ’ ’ 

^‘Let that side of your life not come to you 
yet; better be the Polly whom we all love,” 
said Jane. 


CHAPTER XX 


TUST then the rustling of leaves and the 
^ soft tread upon the grass brought the doc- 
tor to sight. He had sent his trap back before 
reaching the house, and the hearty welcome 
given him by all can well be imagined, while 
to those who observed Jane’s face happiness 
was beaming forth and made it beautiful, as 
only peace of mind can do. 

Emile, although quite a big boy, almost 
climbed into his arms and filled the air with 
cries of delight. 

It was, indeed, a happy gathering! Before 
long the doctor took his little man to bed, 
and before the moon had gone under a cloud 
Polly said: 

‘‘The glow of the moon’s low rim 
Creeps up through the trees to the sky.” 

*^So, good-night, dear Jane, now all is right.” 
And Jane felt the remark to be true and the 
doctor hoped it was. 

The two sat late talking of their lives 
since the first hour of their meeting, gather- 
ing comfort when possible and deep sorrow 
only wdien unavoidable. It was ended by his 
saying to her that since the first moment of 
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tlieir meeting she had always been a part of 
his life as no one had ever done before, and 
now he wanted to care for her as his own, 
thus fulfilling the wishes expressed by her 
dying husband. 

She wept silently upon his shoulder; and 
before they said good-night she was the prom- 
ised bride of the man she had loved so long 
and who had taught her to follow in the 
path of duty, so that if ever happiness came 
there would be no sting of remorse for either 
of them. 

The next day the happy expression on the 
doctor ^s face and more serene one on Jane’s 
justified their being congratulated, and Emile 
saying, Muddy dear, may I tell everyone 
now. ’ ’ 

The day was spent in talking of their plans. 
The bungalow was soon to be built, as their 
sunflower home and the New England prim- 
rose cottage was to remain their summer home, 
for in winter the doctor must be near his 
patients. 

A few days were spared from business, and 
they were all happy indeed. Polly enjoyed 
Jane’s perfect calm and happiness. 

The parting was not sweet sorrow, but 
peaceful content. Before bidding fond fare- 
well it was understood that Polly was to 
return with her husband for the time being 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


97 


to her mother’s home. Jane was to remain 
in quiet but calm retirement until the frost 
nipped the life from her beloved roses and 
spread a pall over the last resting place of 
the one to whom she had been true. With a 
clear conscience she enjoyed evenings seated 
before a cheery log fire, the embers of which 
could tell no tale of reproach to either of 
them, but could only gladden their hearts with 
the knowledge of having fulfilled their duty. 

The doctor, after their hearts had been 
unfolded to each other, hastened away with 
the absorbing thought of making a home for 
the noblest of women, while gladness filled 
her heart, not without its tinge of sorrow, 
for she felt that after all her dead husband 
had been the father of her child. 

She stood long looking after the man who 
had promised to raise a dark shadow from 
her life, replacing it by peace and content, 
and a new light filled her eyes. 

Emile returned from a long walk, for he 
had gone far with the doctor, and embracing 
his mother said: 

Before the cold comes we will be some- 
where not far from the doctor, who says he 
will see much of us and take me to the circus, 
let me have a great big dog, that will go to 
school with me and wait outside until school 
is over.” 


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Reflecting seriously, tlie little fellow said: 

“Ain’t that good, but what do you suppose 
he does it for? We have not any money to 
pay him, have we. Muddy? And dogs cost 
money, and school, too.” 

His mother laughed and quieted him by 
saying : 

“Some of his patients will give him the 
dog, and the schools are free.” 

“What does that mean. Muddy?” 

“You don’t have to pay, darling.” 

“Well, he is not so good after all, but I 
love him just the same as I did Daddy, even 
if he did not take us on that long journey.” 

Jane was overcome with grief, and pressed 
him to her heart. 

“O, Muddy dear, I did not mean the awful 
long journey, but the one where he saw all 
the wonders he told me about; don’t you 
remember some of them?” 

“Yes, darling, but now we must fix our 
supper.” And passing through her husband’s 
room she sobbed loudly, but Emile was off 
feeding his chickens, so her heart was the only 
sad heart. 


CHAPTER XXI 


^HE following day the doctor brought the 
patient wdiom he had selected that life 
should be less lonely for Jane and Emile. 

While she was a charming, refined woman, 
her eccentricities were without limit, and as 
the gloom of the cottage grew less she kept 
them under a certain restraint, and Jane was 
often at a loss to comprehend her. She 
amused them and would make them marvel 
at her kittenish ways, especially when speaking 
of the doctor. 

Suddenly it struck Jane that the woman 
was infatuated with the doctor, to whom she 
at once wrote about the matter. He at once 
came to the cottage and informed her that 
Jane and himself were affianced, which caused 
all kinds, of foolishness from this woman. She 
was a woman who claimed to have known 
Mirium in his days of wildness, and told the 
doctor a marvelous tale of her relationship 
with him, his devotion to her, and the partial 
understanding existing between them. 

Her behavior was such as to convince the 
doctor she was not a fit companion for Jane, 
and by taking timely steps Jane was spared 
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another humiliating heartache and the woman 
was returned to the city. 

The doctor when told of their experiences 
with her was much amused and surprised that 
she had not gone farther, casting a stigma 
upon the character of the poor man no longer 
in their midst. The doctor gathered from 
what she told him that she had come to him 
at this time contemplating making a demand 
upon Mirium^s fancied estate, which consisted 
of the cottage and small patch of surrounding 
land, very long since made over to Jane, so 
that there was no possible way of her caus- 
ing disturbance. 

At this time the days were growing shorter, 
and while the twilight hours were lonely ones, 
the embers in the grate fire, necessitated by 
the coolness of approaching night, were the 
means of bringing about pleasant dreams of 
a happy future for Jane. 

Poor Uncle Jim, who had helped in their 
garden and dug the grave of Emile’s father, 
was induced to spend his nights in the cot- 
tage as a sort of protection to them; and 
when supper was over and everything put to 
rights he would entertain his ‘‘little man,” as 
he called Emile, with wild stories of his 
life’s experiences, some of which would aston- 
ish the child until he would open his eyes 


r 


k 



4 




% 

% 


Uncle Jim 



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SO wide it would seem they could never close 
again. 

The most interesting portion of this old 
man^s life had been spent in the wilds of 
Michigan among the Indians of Sou San 
Mary, Mackinac Island, Big and Little Trav- 
ers Bay. He knew some of the famous 
chiefs about which he could tell many things, 
even singing some of their songs. He liked 
the life, but chanced to displease a chief and 
tied, his life only being saved through the 
influence of a Catholic priest. Jim seemed 
to be a Methuselah. In reality his experiences 
dated back many years. He reached Virginia 
by mere chance, which had ever since been 
his home. He was glad fate had brought 
him in contact with his dear lady, Mrs. Jane, 
whom he loved and always wanted to serve. 

Emile thought Uncle Jim a wonder, and 
his stories so impressed him that he would 
not only tell them all to his mother, but talk 
of them in his sleep, filling the air with wild 
Indian warcries, greatly to the amusement of 
his mother and the doctor when with them. 


CHAPTER XXII 


*^HE doctor had selected a little home for 
them near Winchester, and when shown 
to Jane filled her heart with pride and pleas- 
ure. It did not take long for them to make 
the selection of the requirements for the fur- 
nisliing of their home, which was not con- 
fined to comfort alone, but luxury also, as 
the doctor was now a man of means and could 
afford this pleasure to Jane. Emile was enjoy- 
ing it, particularly as he was soon to enter 
school and strive for a commendable position 
amongst his classmates. 

The house was rather on the outskirts than 
in the heart of town, for in these days of 
telephones, distance hardly counts. The quiet 
was what they wanted more than all else. 
About the time when all was completed, the 
doctor arranged that Polly should come to 
them for a visit. She was met at the train 
not only by himself, but old Uncle Jim, to 
look after her baggage. This was to be a 
surprise for Jane and Emile, so when the 
conveyance stopped at the house and the maid 
admitted them Polly was not the only over- 
joyed soul. 


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Attempting to describe the happiness of Jane 
and the doctor when they were settled in their 
home is beyond description, so I leave the 
portraying of the picture to those having 
passed through the happiness of such a stage. 

Polly found Jane beaming with happiness, 
and in the same condition was Polly, who told 
her laughingly that she and Trevis had agreed 
that they would teach her how to love and be 
as happy as they were. Polly ^s mother ^s home 
was still theirs with all of its elegance, and as 
they were to have a summer bungalow, she 
would not hear to being left alone in winter. 
The homes of the two young women were not 
so widely separated that distance had to be 
considered, but when they came together force 
was almost required to separate them. They 
seemed never to reach the end of their school 
day experiences. The happiness they had had 
under Mrs. Fisher’s roof; but it had not been 
all sunshine for poor Jane, who smothered 
her thoughts and smiled through her tears. 

The two young wives thought themselves 
the happiest creatures in the world, their hus- 
bands growing to be fast friends, which was 
a comfort to them, the one following a legal 
profession, the other a medical profession 
and both bid fair to reach the highest places 
in their work. The doctor, the elder of the 
two, had already climbed high and obtained 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


105 


the confidence of the entire commnnity, with 
most of whom his voice was a ruling power. 
Trevis, more recently launched in his pro- 
fession, had every reason to expect success 
from his efforts, as he had the strong back- 
ing of money, which caused him to spurn 
waiting to he recognized upon his merits. 
The strong backing which money gave him 
could not be ignored nor fail to aid him 
in becoming a man of note if he chose to 
apply himself to business. Their pleasures 
were for the most part enjoyed together, and 
they were quite sufficient to satisfy both of 
them. 

Polly ^s mother was a woman of worldly 
instincts, and after a short while she wearied 
of the monotonous life her daughter was lead- 
ing. She endeavored to make her partici- 
pate in the pleasure of her girlhood, making 
them more enticing than ever, but Polly ^s 
nature seemed to be revolutionized, and 
though there was no lessening of the exuber- 
ance of her spirits, for she was ever the jolly 
spirit of old, she did not permit herself to 
be beguiled into the frivolities of life. She 
was more than content with the companion- 
ship of her devoted husband, and in the love 
she bestowed upon the rosebud God had 
bestowed upon them. They named the child 
Polly, after her, and the devoted father hoped 


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the child would be in all things like its 
mother. Who could have been more over- 
joyed than her devoted friends when they 
made their first call, bringing with them a 
bunch of New England primroses, which long 
had the care of a noted florist, so that they 
might be brought to a state of perfection. 

Grandmother, not over-pleased to be called 
by that name, for the thought of resigning 
her coveted place of distinction in the world 
of fashion made her fear its effect, feigned 
delight. All that fortune could bestow to her- 
ald the child to the world as a welcome that 
God sent was done, but the parents appre- 
ciated the true condition of things and did 
not permit it to blind them to facts; or, to 
cause any regrets to mar their own true 
happiness. Their dear doctor had been the 
first to smile upon the baby and to place it 
in the arms of its fond and proud mother, 
while congratulating them both and hoping 
for a continuance of Heaven ^s blessings so 
lavishly bestowed upon them both. 

Polly had endeared herself to her husband ^s 
family, and they soon were most proud to 
feel themselves grandparents and to express 
their increased love for their daughter and her 
lovely offspring. 

The tenderest care was bestowed upon Polly, 
and Trevis was never so happy as when he 



Polly 



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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


was left alone with his dear wife and child. 
In whispered tones he would repeat his fond 
love and idolatry of them both. He would 
gaze first upon his sweet wife dressed in rose 
colored frills and laces, which were to him 
daintiness itself, while little Polly in her 
exquisite baby clothes made him certain she 
was just dropped from Heaven. 

Anyone who has passed through such a 
stage of life can easily enter into the spirit 
of these enraptured parents, who hoped that 
it would continue many a day before any 
cloud would rise over their pathway. When 
Polly’s mother had recovered sufficiently from 
the shock to her pride, the little treasure was 
christened with all the pomp and ceremony 
that such an occasion could possibly call forth. 
People of distinction were invited to witness 
the ceremony, but no one called forth greater 
admiration than Jane, who had the radiance 
produced by true happiness and fond love for 
her dearest friend depicted on her face as 
she held the infant in her arms with a full 
appreciation of the solemnity of the occasion, 
she and her husband being the God-parents 
of the little one. 

Mrs. and Mr. Solan, Trevis’ parents, were 
the proudest of the crowd when their little 
granddaughter smiled sweetly, almost know- 
ingly, during the service instead of crying, as 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


109 


is the rule with infants. Polly accounted for 
it by saying: “Jane always soothes as none 
other can.’’ 

Miss Polly was given a handsome check to 
be deposited to her credit, but however great 
was the guests’ curiosity as to the amount, 
good breeding forbade gratifying their curi- 
osity. The day closed with a visit to a buffet 
table richly provided with every bon bouche 
to be thought of, with champagne drunk to 
the health of the little queen of the Solans. 
The following day disclosed to them the fact 
that Mother Polly had overexerted herself; 
and as a result a severe spell of illness fol- 
lowed, during which time Trevis devoted him- 
self absolutely to his wife. On the recom- 
mendation of the doctor, Polly was taken to 
Warm Springs for change of air, the baths, 
and perfect quiet. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


T ANE took the baby, and Polly was then 
^ free from all care or anxiety. An amusing 
occurrence transpired a short time after her 
arrival at the Springs, when she chanced to 
be dozing in a reclining chair under a lovely 
elm tree with wide spreading branches form- 
ing a soft umbrella over her. Motherhood had 
made of her an exceptionally pretty woman, 
and her delicate health added an ethereal 
charm to it. She had attracted much attention, 
most unconsciously, which was flattering to 
her husband, for every man loves to feel that 
his wife is admired. There presented himself 
to Polly’s notice a youngish man of no mean 
appearance, who strove to make himself agree- 
able to all, especially to her. He was clever, 
full of small talk, a traveled man, with a fund 
of amusing experiences, and handsome as an 
Adonis, as adventurers usually are. 

When Polly awoke, looking lovely with 
that fresh glow of sleep upon her cheeks, she 
found the man gazing at her in raptures, but 
with the excuse that he had thought her ill 
and tarried nearby to be of service if needed. 
Although she appreciated the ludicrousness of 
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111 


the whole sitnation, she was still too weak to 
answer back with her usual flow of spirits, 
which would have called him to an immediate 
halt. This was left for Trevis to do upon 
his return shortly after; and, but for the fear 
of making his wife more nervous he would 
unhesitatingly have boxed his jaws. 

Polly was feeling sufficiently improved to 
wish to show him up in th» most ridiculous 
light, for his behavior naturally incensed her, 
but said to herself : ‘ ‘ Fashioned after my 

poor, foolish, though dear, mother’s style, a 
society woman.” 

The man was slow to accept a rebuff, 
whether through obtuseness or obstinacy, being 
determined not to be swayed in his purpose. 
His infatuation for Polly was ludicrous. 

The young ladies of the house seemed much 
impressed by him. Looks go a long way with 
young ladies, and in addition to good looks 
he had all the social accomplishments, danc- 
ing, horseback riding, golfing, etc., to make 
him admired, one might almost say sought 
after, by the social set. 

Polly and Trevis kept him at a distance, 
Trevis almost gritting his teeth, for he 
observed that he had more eyes for his wife 
than the girls, but offering no offense, he 
was not justified in assailing him. 

Polly’s cure being over, and being greatly 


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improved, they were only too glad to depart 
for home. On arriving at the depot they 
found him already there; indeed, he boarded 
the same train, greatly to Polly’s amusement, 
who decided he was a fool. But Trevis became 
anxious, thinking him a crank, and never for 
a moment left his wife’s side. When they 
reached a junction on the road he was joined 
by a companion of much the same style, 
who was not especially observed by Polly but 
certainly by Trevis. Polly had always worn 
almost priceless rings ; indeed, they had become 
a part of herself, and Trevis began to fancy 
the crooks were attracted by these jewels, but 
he dared not suggest the removal of them less 
his wife would become nervous. 

As most women of the present day do, she 
carried a jewel case and tnisted it to the care 
of her maid, who was at once put on her 
guard. The journey home was uneventful 
beyond the fact that both the men were sus- 
piciously queer looking and seemed to be on 
the alert. 

They reached home in due time and found 
the doctor awaiting them with their car. 
Trevis managed to attract the doctor’s atten- 
tion to the two men, who also alighted from 
the train and were in no hurry to depart. 
With the doctor’s usual quickness and appre- 
ciation of things, he gave the chautfeur the 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


113 


address of a far-away home and the car spun 
rapidly away. Later the explanation of this 
was given to Polly, who went first to the doc- 
tor’s house to see her baby, which she found 
clinging to Jane so fondh^ that her mother’s 
heart was almost jealous. Tender embraces 
of her child were not rejected, as she was so 
young, but grimaces and a pitiable little cry 
saddened its parents’ hearts. They could 
scarcely wait for morning to come to take it 
home, where it could soon learn to love them 
as they both so craved. 

Polly’s mother was absent from home as 
usual, having gone in search of pleasure and 
distractions to New York, and no regrets were 
felt, as they were so absorbed by each other 
that any third party would have been de trops. 

Almost at dawn of day Jane brought the 
little cherub home. Polly rocked her to sleep, 
much against Jane’s advice, who said that it 
would spoil her, but Polly pleaded for this 
once indulgence, so Jane yielded, saying: ^‘It 
is far better for the child and a saving of 
your vitality.” 

Once nestled away in its basinet, the two 
adoring parents bent over it after darkening 
the room to insure quiet slumber. 

Then came the fond embraces of the two 
women so devoted to each other, feeling closer 
than ever before. Trevis departed for the 


114 


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day to his business, and the two were left 
alone, Polly to relate her experiences, especially 
those with the crank, as she chose to call 
him, in her own amusing way, this proving 
to Jane that Polly was on the road to abso- 
lute and entire recovery. Before long, peals 
of laughter were heard and the entire house- 
hold were overjoyed at the thought that the 
life of the house was again in their midst. 
During the course of the day Trevis happened 
to meet one of the mysterious men, who 
appeared before him like a streak of lightning, 
but the flash from Trevis’ eyes caused him 
to hastily retire, leaving in Trevis’ mind an 
unpleasant idea that he was being watched. 
He began observing closely everyone about 
him, anticipating harm from one or the other 
of the parties. 

That night all four dined together with 
Jane, and went to the play ‘‘Yellow Jacket.” 
What was their amazement upon entering the 
theatre to find Mystery No. 2 just inside of 
the door playing the part of Major Domo 
they thought; and, as the play advanced the 
twin brothers came before the footlights, tak- 
ing an important part and reminding one of 
Eobson and Crane in “The Two Dromios,” 
for, of course, the two would appear at the 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


115 


end together. They enjoyed the play, but 
their wonderment, of course, was great, and 
they asked themselves what the outcome 
would he. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


'^IME rolled on and the even tenor of their 
lives was only disturbed by the brilliant 
entertainments given by Solan’s mother-in-law, 
Mrs. Carthright, who strove to rekindle within 
her daughter a taste for social pleasure, but 
happily for her husband without success. 

Upon one occasion she collected people noted 
for some one talent or other. There was a 
famous writer, Evan Swift, who wrote Michi- 
gan stories, all about that country and its 
people along the lake shores: ‘‘The Peasant 
Prayer,” “The Call of the Winds,” “The 
Fagots of Cedar.” These beautiful stories 
he recited with most pleasing effect, as they 
were something new to the people in that 
part of the world. Then there was a delight- 
ful violinist. Miss Ferry, who executed Ave 
Maria, Capricia, Venoise, and other pieces with 
wonderful skill; and a Miss Clark, still in 
her teens, whose voice was most powerful and 
true, gave a rendition of “If You Have a 
Sweetheart,” “The Rose Cup,” charming 
everyone; and to finish the evening, a famous 
juggler performed some wonderful feats. 

The gathering was a large and fashionable 
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117 


one, but Trevis was distrait to sncb an extent 
that it was commented upon. He had a sort 
of instinct that the juggler was no stranger 
to him, and upon asking his name was given 
a name and Kussian title far beyond his pro- 
nouncing powers. His vigilance was so intense 
that before refreshments were served the jug- 
gler made an etfort to withdraw, but Trevis 
insisted upon his remaining and was rewarded 
by a positive conviction that he was the man 
of the garden rencontre; and, later the thea- 
tre meeting. 

How to bring him forcibly to the front in 
a manner to admit same, was a question that 
gave Travis much concern. He obtained the 
man’s address from his mother-in-law, but 
upon calling at the place found he was no 
longer there, nor could anyone give informa- 
tion as to his whereabouts. The woman who 
opened the door was most strange looking, 
and there was great secrecy about the prem- 
ises, which only strengthened his belief that 
he was on the right trail. 

Not a word was said to his mother-in-law; 
but that evening he took Polly to Jane’s, and 
after they had laughed heartily at Polly’s 
description of the preceeding night, as well 
as at her marvelous sleight of hand tricks, 
for she was quick at imitating, they settled 
down to a serious talk, in which Trevis told 


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them of his suspicions. They all became most 
interested in trying to solve the mystery. The 
doctor was of the opinion that the veil of 
mystery overhanging these men should be 
raised if possible, and in the meantime ordi- 
nary means be kept at hand to protect them- 
selves from intrusion of any kind. 

Life proceeded with them in an uneventful 
way. Jane was blissfully happy and made the 
dearest of wives for the doctor. Their home 
was a nest of peaceful contentment, where they 
strove to merit God^s continued watch over 
them that their lives might ever be all that 
they had determined to make it. 

Emile, under the guidance of the dearest 
of mothers and noblest of fathers, for the 
doctor was father^’ to him, his first and 
real father having been Daddy,’’ was grow- 
ing to be the pride of their lives, and well 
might they worship the one who had brought 
such joy into their lives. 

Baby Polly thrived, and one of the first 
words she was taught was to lisp ‘‘Aunty,” 
as evidence of her mother’s love and undying 
friendship for the queen of the New England 
primrose. 

Jane, with her big and generous nature, 
devoted much time to good works. One of 
her charities was that of administering to the 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


119 


comfort of tlie blind, among whom she was 
spoken of as the ‘^gentle lady.’’ 

After a lapse of some months she was 
shown to the room of a man who had been 
made blind through an explosion in an 
attempted robbery. She was horrified at the 
sight of him, but abstained from any remarks. 
Her generous nature made her pity him, and 
she determined to learn his past history 
through gentle and sympathizing means. 
Never had she kept a secret from her hus- 
band, but this one she would, so that she 
might promise the afflicted man to guard his 
confidence sacredly if he would open his heart 
to her. She hoped, thereby, gaining the con- 
solation she would bring him through the love 
of a God Who had chastized him, but Who 
was ever merciful. 

From the first the sweetness of her voice 
was like music to his ears, and he would 
often ask when the gentle lady would come 
again, ‘Hhe sweet rose” he would say, not 
knowing how that flower figured in her life, 
but because he never forgot its fragrance. 
She never went to him without comforting 
words, and she always carried to him dainties 
made by her own compassionate fingers. 


CHAPTER XXV 


TJEFORE very long he laid bare to her his 
life of sin and wickedness, beginning in 
his boyhood days, his sin being a heritage from 
an unprincipled father. This father had 
trained him to become a thief, and their work 
had been so profitable that he rose from a 
life of poverty to that of a moneyed man. 

One of her first questions was to ask who 
were his confederates. His refusal to reply 
proved the truth of the proverb; ‘‘There is 
honor even among thieves. His mother was 
still living and an accomplice in his crime. 
It later developed that she was the woman 
who opened the door of the house where Trevis 
called to make inquiries about the juggler. 
Upon asking him why he went on the stage, 
she was told that the stage had been one of 
his richest fields, as actresses are most care- 
less with their jewels. He told her that he 
had hidden away valuables which would help 
materially in this institution harboring so 
many unfortunates, and that she had opened 
his heart to any goodness in it. 

Janets fears of his being suspected made 
her most prudent in all of her dealings with 
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121 


him, never permitting her visits to him to be 
of a greater duration than the time she 
bestowed upon the other unfortunates. The 
course she was pursuing was not only for the 
good it would be to this man, but also because 
she hoped to recover by this means what he 
had hidden away, restoring it to its lawful 
owners when possible, or having it used to 
help the unfortunates deprived of one of God^s 
greatest blessings — sight. 

His being a wonderful juggler had its inter- 
esting stories attached to it. He traveled 
with Meller, and later with Hermann, to learn 
all their tricks. Then went to country towns, 
where he made money both legitimately and 
otherwise. He was the usual summer guest 
at the fashionable hotels, where his pickings 
were of no small value, and when he beheld 
guests with tine jewels, finger rings, etc., he 
made them the object of his attention and 
strove to make their acquaintance by making 
himself as agreeable as he knew how. He 
was handsome, which she could hardly believe, 
seeing him as he then was, always well dressed, 
danced and could be elegant as anyone, so 
that his object was almost always attained. 
He was frequently the most active searcher 
when robberies were committed. 

This brought to mind Polly ^s experience 
when she awakened in the garden to find him 


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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


standing over her, no doubt attracted by her 
elegant rings and his subsequent following 
them until they reached home, where they 
evaded him by the doctor giving orders to 
the chauffeur to drive to a far-away address. 
Jane said to herself, ‘‘To think of my being 
the one to unravel this mystery, but I will 
guard it sacredly until such time as he is 
beyond suffering from its disclosure. I am 
satisfied Polly was picked out to be one of his 
victims.^’ 

At a Sunday dinner gathering Jane was 
reproached with not seeing as much of them 
as true love would inspire, but her dear hus- 
band came to her rescue and assured them 
if they only knew the happiness she was afford- 
ing the afflicted they would make no reproaches. 
This was satisfying, but Polly said, “Rob- 
bing Peter to pay Paul. You are always so 
dear, darling, that we must appreciate the 
fact that when you are not making one happy 
you are making others, and we envy your 
gift in that line.^^ 


CHAPTER XXYI 


'^HE doctor realized that something out of 
the ordinary was taking place with his 
wife, and when he asked her for an explana- 
tion she said, ^‘Dear, I know you trust me, 
and in due time you will know all/^ That was 
all sufficient for the devoted husband, who 
had but to look into the windows of her trust- 
ing soul to know that all was right. Emile 
had assumed a sort of fatherly care of Baby 
Polly, and it was sweet to see him with her, 
so tender and yielding. Once he asked his 
mother how long it would be before he could 
tell her his Indian stories. He went daily to 
Aunt Polly ^s for lunch, as it was much nearer 
his school, but as soon as he entered the 
house he made a bee line for Baby, whom he 
fondled, not like the average boy, but more 
as one would a piece of Dresden china. Once 
he said, will ask father to have a little 
saddle made and then she can ride my Carlo, 
meaning his dog. He was getting large to 
have such ideas, but it had been the efforts 
of his parents to keep him young as long 
as possible. He certainly worshipped Polly, 
and when asked by the boys why he did not 
123 


124 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


go home at noon lie would reply; ^‘Why, I 
go to see my little sister.’’ 

^ ‘ Why, ’ ’ said one of them, ^ ^ that is not your 
home. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I know, ’ ’ he replied, ‘ ‘ hut she is our baby. ’ ’ 

This put him to thinking seriously, and one 
day he said: Muddy, why don’t we have a 

for-keeps baby?” 

To which she replied; Maybe after a 
while God will send us one. Would you like 
a little brother?” 

^^0, no!” Likely even young as he was he 
feared to have his nose put out of joint. 

Another little Polly, only let’s call her Eose.” 

^‘But why, my boy?” 

‘‘Because I do miss our lovely roses so 
much, and I want her to be as sweet as they 
are. ’ ’ 

“Darling boy, it won’t be so very long 
before we go to our country home, just as 
soon as school closes, and there you can enjoy 
the roses again, and run more than ever, 
because you will have Carlo to run over the 
country with you. Now you are so big that 
Mother will not fear to have you out of her 
sight as in the past. And think of it, Aunt 
Polly will be in her sunflower bungalow, and 
you can see Baby Polly all the time, watch 
her when she plays in the sand, teach her to 
love bird music, and listen to the birds as 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 125 

you did when you were a baby. As you grew 
older and Daddy whistled to you, you would 
pucker up your little mouth and, listening, 
sometimes trying to do as he did. Now you 
must show Baby Polly and teach her to love 
bird music as everyone should, for it is the 
sweetest after all music, and some of our most 
noted musicians get their ideas from the songs 
of the wood.’’ 

Jane knew it would not be long before she 
would have to go to her rose nest, and before 
that day came she had much to do. Her hus- 
band was a very busy man, relieving suffering 
over the country just as she was now relieving 
a conscious-stricken sufferer. Usually the doc- 
tor drove her to the blind institute, and one 
morning as he did so and helped her alight 
from the trap he noticed a very tired look 
in her eyes, and made her promise to be 
ready for him at noon, when they would 
return home together for lunch. 

Having much on her mind and realizing that 
a skipped day (Sunday) would make her even 
more welcome than usual, she hastened to 
the man, to find him less calm than usual. 
There met the twin brother, altogether changed 
and calling himself his brother, which Jane 
knew was not so, they being brothers only 
in crime. 

Her greeting was not as cordial as usual. 


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A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


and when she rose to leave he begged her to 
stay and sent the fellow otf under some pre- 
text. Then he told her she must know where 
the treasures were and not this man, and for 
her to do with them as she saw fit. His candid 
confession was hardly begun when the so-called 
brother returned, but Jane was not to be out- 
witted. She sent him upon a distant com- 
mission, and in his absence procured the 
promise that she alone would be the posses- 
sor of his secret, especially if he expected 
mercy at the hands of the law. 

The villain was trying to contrive a means 
of escape for his brother, as he called him, 
but he said to Jane: 

“I am free to walk away, but it would be 
to a prison home, and what would be my life 
in such a cruel world afflicted as I am, with 
no means of such employment as given me 
here. None but you wfill be my friend. You 
alone shall guide me, and by tomorrow I will 
have sent him where nothing will interfere 
with my talk with you, and I pray God to 
guide me. In all these long days of suffer- 
ing and self-reproach I have had time to look 
into myself. I believe with half a chance I 
would not have been a bad man.’^ 

At once Jane said: Would you not prefer 
to open your heart to a priest or minister!’’ 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


127 


Eeacliing out his hand, which she kindly 
took, he said: 

No one could have the sweet voice of the 
^Gentle Lady,’ which causes each pulsation 
of my heart to throb with gratitude for the 
sympathy she gives me.” 

The poor man, though coming from plain 
people, was naturally clever, and his life had 
often brought him in contact with people of 
refinement, so one might call him a ^‘gentle- 
man thief.” 

About this time Jane was summoned by 
her husband, and after a few comforting words 
left him. The doctor saw a flush upon her 
face, and when they were alone in the trap 
expressed his solicitude about her, and made 
her promise to bear in mind how dear she 
was to many, especially himself; that from 
then on she was to consider herself his patient 
and be gniided by his instructions. 

At this she laughed, saying she was per- 
fectly well and that before many days all 
occasion for alarm would pass away, and that 
he would find her the Jane of old. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


A PEW days intervened when Jane was 
called to see Polly, for Baby Polly was 
not at all well, and no one could prosper in 
any way without the aid of Jane. So great 
was Polly ^s and Trevis’ concern about their 
idoPs condition, that even the doctor’s assur- 
ances were of secondary import. Jane arrived 
like a good, old-fashioned nurse with her 
simple remedies in her bag, and soon the 
baby was nestled in her arms, where she 
watched her breathing, assuring her doting 
parents that there was no need of apprehen- 
sion and that her husband would soon have 
little Polly well. 

The little thing had a nervous sleep and 
soon began contracting her limbs, which was 
a sign of convulsions. Jane lost no time in 
summoning the doctor. While awaiting for 
him she gave the hot bath always required. 
When the doctor arrived his first step was 
to request its parents to leave the room, and 
Jane prayed as earnestly for him to save the 
life of their child as once they had done 
for hers. 


128 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


129 


In time the danger had passed and once 
more Jane was folded ' to the heart of her 
devoted friend in fondest love, and the grasp 
of the hands of the husbands spoke more than 
words could tell. Polly’s mother saw that she 
must be more watchful of baby’s diet to avoid 
the recurrence of this spell. 

Baby’s spell soon passed, but Auntie Jane’s 
turn came next, causing anxiety to those who 
loved her. The following morning she was 
stricken with fever which might have devel- 
oped into nervous prostration. 

At the start the doctor called in his assist- 
ant and turned over all his patients to him. 
The days following were filled with as much 
tender love as her life had ever known. The 
sweetest care ever bestowed upon mortal the 
doctor bestowed upon her, and by his devotion 
and skill she was brought from the brink of 
the grave. She heard that the poor, unfortu- 
nate blind man had become almost ill himself, 
showing that it was altogether her personality 
and her grace of nature which made him as 
well as everyone else love her. 

She sent him at once some delicacies, for she 
was showered with them and comforted him 
with kind words. During her ravings she 
feared she might have broken his confidence, 
but she exacted from her husband the promise 
to be silent until such time when she might 


130 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


tell him all, so they never discussed what her 
husband knew had caused her the greatest 
anxiety. 

True to her word, her first visit was made 
to the unfortunate, whose exclamation was 
when he heard her voice: 

Thank God!’’ 

But she was too weak to listen to any sad 
tales and only remained a short time, promis- 
ing to return as soon as her health permitted 
her hearing all that he might want to tell. 
She was so touched by his sincere affection 
that she went to a store and purchased a sweet 
singer, which she sent him, saying: ‘‘Not 
only its songs will comfort you, but the noise 
and fluttering of its wings about the cage.” 

Never had anyone been more touched or 
heart made so to open to God as this poor 
man’s at this mark of forgiveness and her 
wish to teach him. “It is never too late to 
atone,” was her constant remark to him. 

When she returned home and as she lay 
stretched upon the divan of the living room, 
Emile came and said: 

“0, Muddy, I was so scared when I saw 
your pale face, with the soft ringlets about 
it when you were sick, that I ran to my room 
and had a good cry and promised God that 
if He only spared you I would try never to 
pain you. I thought God was so cruel, for 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


131 


I was so sure He was going to take you away 
from me, but now I know He is good like you 
always told me. Muddy, father would come 
to my room when I was in bed and look down 
on me and kiss me and leave with tears in 
his eyes; and. Muddy, I believe Carlo knew 
there was something wrong, he was so quiet, 
and never barked and used to lick my hand 
and try to lick my face more than ever. 

^‘One night when it was bright moonlight 
I stood at the hall window looking out think- 
ing of the pretty things you told me and how 
that same moon used to shine in Daddy ^s 
window when he was ill, making him say such 
sweet things to you; and how you told me 
the story about the Man in the Moon. All that 
time Carlo was at my feet and he did not 
even make a noise. You see. Muddy, he was 
afraid. May I bring him in to see you? He 
won’t jump on you. I am sure he’s bound 
to be happy like the rest of us.” 

He left the room and soon returned with 
Carlo by the collar. The dog was truly 
delighted. Dogs are full of instinct. He 
snitfed, licked her hand, wagged his tail, and 
barked in his delight. Jane felt at last per- 
fectly happy. 

While Polly had not been allowed to see 
much of her, believing that the care of the 
baby had made her ill, but Jane knew it was 


132 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


because lier sympathies had been severely 
taxed and the strain of secrecy so great. 

To it lay the responsibility of her break- 
down, and she was ashamed of herself for 

being so weak and giving so much trouble. 

The strain had also almost broken her hus- 
band down. 

AVhen the doctor returned to the room she 
drew him down and whispered: 

“Love is a secret sympathy, 

A silken tie, 

Which heart to heart 

And mind to mind 

In body and in soul combine. ' ^ 

He sat beside her and said: 

“This goodness of God will make me a bet- 
ter man, for the light of my soul I more 
than once thought would be extinguished, and 
I said, ‘In all the world there can be no 
woman like Jane.’ ” 

Twilight was approaching, and the stillness 
made them content to even sit in silence, and 
as she fell off to sleep that night she said: 

“Guard me through the starry night, 

Wake me safe with sunshine bright.” 

A few days later she went to see the poor, 
blind man, who had been counting the hours, 
fearing that the account of his sinful life 
might have made her ill, so that Avhen the 
music of her voice was heard he could hardly 
restrain himself. 


CHAPTEE XXVIII 


TITER first question was: ‘AVhere is the 
man who claimed to be your brother I 

‘‘He will not trouble me for many a long 
day. After I have told you all, you will know 
why. May I have your attention for quite 
a while, as mine is not a short story, but 
filled with accounts that will thrill you? One 
of the greatest satisfactions of my life is that 
a sick woman at White Sulphur Springs 
escaped my villainy. I had noticed her most 
pleasing face, as well as her wealth of diamond 
rings, and I had resolved to possess myself 
of them. Therefore, when she was left alone 
I approached, determined to lengthen out her 
sleep by a drugged handkerchief being placed 
over her face, but my first step was arrested 
by her moving and crying out : ‘ Trevis, dear. ^ 
Stopping in front of her, I said: ‘I thought 
jmu were ill and that I might chance to be 
of service to you.’ She thanked me, and I 
passed on, but not too far to see her husband 
and ever after remembered him. 

“"When they left the hotel, I also left with 
the intent of finding where they went, but 
even trickery failed me this time, and the 
133 


134 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


lady was spared a fright and the loss of 
her jewels, and I am congratulating myself on 
having one less crime to account for.^’ 

His story dawned upon Jane with full force, 
for she had heard it before and knew that 
Polly was the one who had escaped him, but 
she said nothing, only giving full attention to 
all that he said. 

^^Some of my most valuable hauls were from 
theatre people. With great deftness of fin- 
gers I would pinch out the jewels, sometimes 
secreting them in my mouth, my cheek, and 
then throwing the setting beyond reach. 
Again, at watering places I often made rich 
finds. One of my most skillful attempts was 
scaling a wall which led to an elegant suite, 
ingratiating myself in the favor of the French 
maid, who would share the spoils or expose 
me as best suited her purpose, for she had 
much French cunning and did not require very 
much persuasion. 

^‘That time the haul was much over a thou- 
sand dollars. We planned the window was 
to be left open and the maid to be found lying 
on the lady^s bed with disheveled hair and 
clothing showing violent handling, with an 
empty bottle of chloroform beside her as well 
as a handkerchief which she gripped in her 
hand. A great fuss was made at the hotel, 
which was in Atlantic City, but I escaped even 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


135 


suspicion, as my work was done dexterously 
and the night was rather dark. I came near 
meeting my end, for I fell from quite a height, 
but was rescued by my partner, who awaited 
below. 

In the house occupied at present by my 
mother and my accomplices is hidden a tin 
can, full of precious stones for the most part 
collected from cities and towns all over the 
world. 

“I began this work when very young and 
am now forty-five years old, so that you can 
realize I have had many years of most sinful 
life. 

was once almost caught in a dastardly 
act on board of ship. I had entered the cabin 
of a New York heiress with designs on her 
belongings, and when caught played the part 
of an inebriate to such perfection that I was 
simply told to be more careful. I brought 
back with me sufficient worldly goods col- 
lected on the other side to make the trip a 
most profitable one. It was not long after 
that I sprang from the window of a house 
where I had snatched jewels over which I 
should now deeply grieve, as they were family 
relics. I never disposed of my thefts near 
where stolen and always unmounted; there- 
fore, even if I had my sight I could not replace 
them or restore them to their rightful own- 


136 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


ers, which I deeply lament, for you, dear Gen- 
tle Lady, are making me a better man — one 
full of remorse. 

^^But how can the stolen property to be 
recovered and disposed of without endangering 
the safety of my mother, for she would be 
arrested as an accomplice I My assumed 
brother’s silence has already been bought; and 
he has fled the country, fearing disclosure 
from me. I am prepared to divulge the secret 
to you if my mother is guarded from harm. 
Unless I am assured that my mother will be 
spared from punishment, for she did noth- 
ing, in fact knows nothing except what is 
founded on suspicion, I will go down to my 
grave with a secret which will never be known 
as long as my mother lives. At her death the 
house will be demolished and the treasures, 
if not stolen, will be placed in the hands of 
the government. I shall be so long lost sight 
of that no thought of gnilt will attach to me, 
and the good that might be done with the 
Xjroceeds therefrom will go to the govern- 
ment.” 

Jane sat dumbfounded, making no remark 
for so long a time that with a voice, filled with 
tears, he said: 

have lost my only friend.” 

Aroused from her profound thoughts, she 
said : 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


137 


‘^0, no, far from it, but I was thinking 
what had best be done; and now I want you 
to let me bring my husband in to you. A 
better man never lived, and if he cannot help 
you he will not expose you. Of that you 
may be sure.’’ 

At first he regretted having told his story, 
but when she spoke gently to him and assured 
him her interest in him was keener than ever 
and that she would be his friend to the end, 
come what might, he said he had all faith in 
her and that she might do for him as she 
chose. 

At this juncture she bade him a kind fare- 
well and went to her home with a very full 
heart. She called to her husband and asked 
if he would later take her for a long drive, 
as she had something to tell him Avhich she 
feared even to have the winds hear. 

He replied, ^ ^ Certainly, ” and then knew that 
the long guarded secret was to be shared with 
him. 

“And as the sun is in the West 
Slowly sinking down to rest 

^^The secret of my loved one will be unfolded 
to me.” 

After lunch, seeing a tired look in her eyes, 
he made her rest ; and then they went on their 
long drive, which was directed to the woods, 
beyond reach of human ears. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


T^HEN the first chapter of her story was 
ended, great was the wonderment of the 
doctor, but he held his peace until she was 
through, and then he said : 

‘^No wonder that nervousness beset you, and 
might have taken you from those who love 
you, my dear/^ 

‘‘But that is far from all I have to tell; 
you must listen well/^ 

Night was almost upon them when she had 
finished, and looking him straight in the eye 
she said: 

“You must share the burden with me, so 
please think it over and then advise me/’ 

“Did ever a nobler woman live than you, 
my darling, the light of my life?” 

Their dinner was a quiet one, save from the 
chatting of Emile, so full of schoolboy experi- 
ences and eagerness to make the two serious 
faces laugh and be happy. 

“My, Muddy and father,” he said, “I have 
not seen you so grave since Baby Polly was 
ill. You know it is hard for me to be still.” 

“No, little man,” said his father, “don’t 
you know a doctor often has grave cases, 
138 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


139 


but that must not interfere with the joys 
of your young life, so tell Muddy lots to 
cheer her while I go on my round of calls. 
Let the beautiful moonlight shine in upon you 
as well as the twinkling stars, which you love 
so well, to remind you of the old home so 
dear to us all and which at the closing of 
your school will be open by us again. 

The trio. Muddy, Emile, and Carlo, sat long, 
happy in the quiet of twilight, while Emile 
wanted silhouetting explained to him, and he 
replied to what his mother told him with the 
words, ‘^AinT this world a wonder?’^ 

Earlier than usual the doctor returned, say- 
ing that a hard case had demanded his entire 
attention, but that in the quiet of the night he 
would collect his thoughts about the matter 
in question and decide what he thought the 
best thing to do. 

Jane could not help fretting over the affair, 
and hoped the settlement of it . would soon 
take place. 

The doctor will spend a sleepless night, but 
when he comes to a conclusion about the mat- 
ter it will be -a wise one, thought Jane. 

Before leaving home in the morning he kissed 
his wife and said: 

am not astonished you were on the verge 
of nervous prostration, for even I feel all 
upset about it. Suppose you ask this man 


140 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


if he will see me, and then I can see if my 
plans are feasable.’’ 

Early in the day Jane was with the blind 
man, and after much reasoning gained his 
consent to have her husband see him. Had 
he not been in this asylum as a prisoner, they 
could have taken him home with them as a 
safer place for this important talk. While 
the story confided to Jane was about in detail 
the same as told the doctor, there were some 
minor points told to the doctor; among them 
that he had not been a roue and he respected 
women and under no circumstances had been 
tempted to take a life. The doctor thought 
he saw a means of procuring the valuable jew- 
els without having them fall into the hands 
of the government, which they wished to avoid. 

Amongst his patients of the year before was 
a detective of standing who owed his very life 
to the doctor’s skill and care. Now was the 
time to show his appreciation, and when the 
affair was laid before him he thought he 
might bring the valuables to light without 
exposing the one so anxious to atone for his 
wrongdoing, though he had been subjected to 
all the punishments which could be imposed 
upon a blind and otherwise afflicted person, 
being badly mutilated by the awful explosion 
and barely escaping with his life. 


CHAPTER XXX 


A FTER many conferences a means of 
acquiring the jewels was determined upon. 
The afflicted but guilty party explained to 
them how they could gain access to his 
mother ^s house. This was done under great 
difficulties, and only when the officer showed 
his star and the doctor assured her he came 
from her son and that she was to be amply 
cared for. She told them that she was entirely 
innocent and was guilty of no crime, knew 
nothing, but, of course, suspected much. These 
suspicions were greatly modified by what her 
son had told her. They went to the cellar, 
the way to which had been described by the 
son, and to the spot described to the doctor. 
There they found a small can in which was 
deposited the stolen valuables. 

They beheld in great wonderment the gor- 
geous, priceless diamonds, pearls, rubies, emer- 
alds, sapphires, opals, and other sparkling 
gems, almost without end. They marveled at 
them and were bewildered about what their 
next move should be. Had the doctor not 
been a man of great integrity, the occasion 
would have been a more difficult one, necessi- 


141 


142 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


tating its being put in the hands of numerous 
persons. As it was, the officer who went with 
him to the house gave his promise of his 
secrecy, and they planned having the gems 
taken to the first jewelry establishment of 
unquestionable repute and there an appraise- 
ment of their value taken by reliable experts. 

This accumulation of stolen jewels had been 
going on for years. 

The uttermost efforts were made to preserve 
secrecy, but it was the old story of the ‘‘cat 
getting out of the bag. ’ ’ The next effort 
made was to keep parties connected with it 
from being known. The authorities took the 
statements of the doctor and the detective 
unhesitatingly on account of the confidence 
everyone had in them. As the property was 
to go to the blind asylum, a government insti- 
tution, the only remaining step was to intrust 
it to the doctor, who gave security for the same 
at his own suggestion and disposed of it as 
agreed upon by all the laws of reasonable 
justice. 

It became necessary for Jane to be most 
cautious about the matter, and when she went 
next to the asylum she made it clear to the 
poor man, who listened with deep regret, for 
she alone brought some light into his life. He 
was clever enough to understand the sense of 
it, and to accept the inevitable situation calmly, 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


143 


knowing she would come when she could do 
so. Before she saw him again she heard the 
case discussed and wondered what the amount 
would aggregate, and, who the beneficiaries 
would be. 

One can readily conceive what relief it was 
to Jane and the doctor to have things reach 
this point. She was given an account of how 
they gained access to the house and pitied the 
mother and resolved to befriend her at the 
proper time. Feeling that if she had sus- 
pected guilt on her son^s part, it was only a 
suspicion; the mother’s heart had been tried 
as only a mother can appreciate and needed 
sympathy. 

Now a rest must be given to afford time for 
examination and valuations to be made of the 
stolen property as well as the disposition of 
this no small amount of wealth. 

The approval of the state was now con- 
sidered the all-absorbing question, and more 
about this decision will be told later.. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


W HEN some of the details of this strange 
story crept into the papers, Polly said 
to her husband: 

cannot dispossess myself of the idea that 
our dear Jane is mixed up some way in this 
affair. ^ ^ 

Her husband laughed and replied: 

‘‘Dear, how your fancies will go wool gath- 
ering, making this the cause for Jane’s infre- 
quent visits. I tell you it is simply because 
of her life of good deeds; but let some of us 
become ill or require her in any way, and then 
her loyalty will be shown at once.” 

Polly’s mother was a woman full of pecu- 
liarities, love of society, fondness for dress, 
etc., and the house was kept in more of a 
social turmoil than pleased Jane. This was 
one of the causes of her infrequent visits, 
and when commented upon was answered by 
saying: 

“We’ll soon be in our New England prim- 
rose and sunflower nests, where nothing will 
interfere with our lives.” 

They had heard that never were there such 
beautiful sunflowers as surrounded the home, 
144 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


145 


making it most lovely. Curiosity was sharp- 
ened on all sides, only to be appeased when 
they all went out to visit it, on a beautiful, 
sunny, spring day. 

The rose nest had also had its touches of 
paint, but only where it did not interfere with 
the creeping rose vines. A beautifully trained 
hedge surrounded the spot, which had always 
received care from them, reminding them of 
the folly which had nipped their first true love 
in its bud. Emile counted the days before the 
termination of school, which was to be closed 
with the usual exercises. Polly proposed to 
the teacher of Emile ^s class to allow him to 
recite a poem on ‘ ‘ The Happiest Hay, the Hap- 
piest Hour,’^ which suggestion was accepted, 
and the little fellow acquitted himself most 
creditably. 

“The happiest day, the happiest hour 

My seared and blighted heart hath known. 

The happiest hope of pride and power 
I feel hath flown.” 

He was applauded and asked if he really 
loved school, when he replied: ‘^Oh, yes, but 
if only it was out in the country, where we 
could romp and play games. Wild ones, like 
the Indians play and of which we read. Such 
as old Uncle Jim used to tell me about. I 
tell you they were fine, and sometimes I would 
lay awake at night thinking about them and 


146 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


wondering if I would ever see a real Indian. 
Yes, I remember one night I scared Muddy 
by screaming, but I was not frightened.^’ 

One day lie said: Muddy, I wanted to 

say ^The Boy Stood On the Burning Deck,’ 
but Aunt Polly said people were tired of that. 
I know that boy was braver than I am, for 
sure before the smoke began to choke me I 
would have run, me and Carlo.” 

His contented nature made him beloved by 
everybody, and when he was collecting his 
things for their country home he recalled the 
pretty bird songs and would chirp and sing as 
they do and tell his mother how he would 
whistle to them, remembering that his Daddy 
did so. 

Soon the town house was closed, as was also 
Polly’s, whose mother whs off on one of her 
mad chases after pleasure and distraction, 
so that her cares fell to Polly. Jane was busy 
looking after the comforts her husband should 
have, as his vacation must be taken in spells, 
sometimes very short ones. This is the fate 
of all doctors of prominence, and that surely 
was the case with this noble and beloved man. 

With Trevis there was no danger of the 
approach of the wolf. Little Polly was devoted 
to her mother, but would run to Aunty if any 
harm befell her, and so great was Polly’s love 
for her friend that she did not resent it, but 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


147 


would whisper to her husband, ‘‘Even in that 
tiny tot intuition is so great that she knows 
Jane is wiser than I am, and can sooth her 
more quickly.’^ 

Upon reaching the homes which they all 
loved so much. Uncle Jim, who had preceeded 
them, was there to do the greeting and show 
them into homes over which bright sunlight 
had spread its rays of glory and teaching 
them to think of and appreciate God’s 
goodness. 

That evening Polly was in one of her old 
time moods of mimickry, and the peculiarities 
of all of their acquaintances were depicted in 
the most realistic way, causing great merri- 
ment and old time hilarity. 

After they had been there a few days, the 
doctor was called back to town, and upon his 
arrival was told that he was wanted at the 
jewelers, where he was informed that the 
jewels had paid a price as determined upon 
as being fair and just, and the money was 
at his disposal. 

He took the detective, and received twenty- 
five thousand dollars, which he forthwith depos- 
ited in his name as trustee. 

Jane’s parting with the unfortunate man 
was most touching. He said, with trembling 
voice, after she gave him her hand, “I know 
I have nothing to fear from the Gentle Lady. 


148 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


The confidence I have reposed in you will be 
held sacred, but my mind dwells constantly 
upon how this disclosure will turn out, and as 
I shall not see you for such a long time, most 
likely my anxiety will be all the greater/’ 
She said: ‘‘Of course, I cannot write you, 
but I shall not be too far to come to you 
when I have any important news to bring. 
Until then conduct yourself in such a way as 
to make people pity and love you, but never 
suspect you. Only the authorities who put 
you here know anything of your history, and 
that only to the extent of what has caused 
your blindness, and nothing must be done to 
arouse their suspicions.” 


0 


CHAPTER XXXII 

OHORTLY after the doctor’s return from 
^ the country he received a telephone mes- 
sage to call at a certain house at his earliest 
convenience, and upon doing so found himself 
confronted by Mrs. Shaft, Jane’s former com- 
panion, who had been in all innocence sug- 
gested by the doctor. She said she was ill 
and wanted him to prescribe for her, but 
the doctor told her he must decline having 
her as a patient, especially as she seemed 
to be in fair health. Whereupon, she said 
if he refused to treat her she would make 
way with herself and it should be known he 
was the cause of it. This was an ugly threat, 
but he kept his wits and said: do believe 

you require a quieting powder, and I will 
go for them.” To this she demurred, saying 
she would send for them. 

‘‘Well,” said he, “that will do, but as there 
is a new remedy with which I am not alto- 
gether familiar, I must write the druggist 
a note.” Clever and tricky as she was, he 
got the advantage of her there, as he wrote: 
“Send me a detective at once. He may bring 
a small bottle of bromide.” 


149 


150 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


Wliile waiting the prescription she showed 
up in her natural colors, and it was with 
difficulty that this man of dignity and refine- 
ment made her keep her place. 

When the detective arrived the doctor 
explained the case and turned the woman over 
to him, saying: ‘^Such pranks as this will 
not work with a man of honor, and my advice 
to you is to leave town, but do not cross my 
, pathway again or the prison walls will be 
your home.’^ 

A woman of that type is not easily dis- 
concerted, and she was bent upon making 
mischief between these two happy people. 
She began writing anonymous letters to his 
wife, who had been notified of the procedure, 
and Jane knew at once who was responsible 
for it, but it did cause her some little con- 
cern, for this vile woman touched upon some 
of his private matters, learned while the doc- 
tor was treating her prior to his marriage. 
It was about this time that he suggested her 
as a companion, believing her to be a lady 
who would make their lives less lonely, and 
her age induced him to believe that she would 
be somewhat of a protection. 

Jane showed the letters to her husband, 
who pronounced them the work of a vile, 
unprincipled woman, who had left town but 
could not be tracked. 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


151 


The doctor thought he saw some change 
in his wife and spoke to her kindly of it, 
but being unaware of it herself, Jane dis- 
claimed any change until a malicious letter 
was written, saying he had wanted her to 
become his wife. This caused the doctor to 
tell to Jane what she had said of her first 
husband, and, which to spare her distress did 
not mention it at the time. Now he would 
have the detectives put on her trail and let 
her meet the punishment to which she was 
justly entitled. Strange as it may seem, 
while she had left town she returned soon 
thereafter and without great difficulty was 
caught and was to be imprisoned, but Jane, 
with her usual generosity, pleaded that she 
might be forgiven if she left town never to 
return. She readily gave this promise and 
was never heard of again by them. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


'^HROUGH the town of Winchester rode a 
young lady noted for her beauty. The 
fast falling rain made her spur her horse, 
and his dash gave her the appearance of an 
Amazon. The streets, made slippery by the 
rain, were dangerous to one on horseback. 

She was followed by her footman, who with 
difficulty kept within reins of his lady. Home- 
ward, her horse sped with increasing pace. 
She had given him loose rein, and they passed 
a horseman no less eager to escape from the 
rain. When at a short distance from her 
he heard a cry, and, turning svdftly, saw that 
the rider had been thrown, while the horse 
continued in his wild gait. At this juncture 
the footman rode up, but not until the gen- 
tleman who had dismounted held the pros- 
trated form in his arms and was seeking 
signs of life from one he already acknowl- 
edged to himself was beautiful. 

The footman was sent for a physician and 
an ambulance, while the gentleman bathed 
her brow, his handkerchief being saturated 
with the downpour. The horse was seen dash- 
ing by riderless and was recognized as that 

152 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


153 


of the lady of a nearby manor, so that a 
quickly caparisoned rig was driven to the 
point of rescue, and was gladly welcomed by 
the man who held the prostrated form. 

A slight movement of the head had assured 
him of semi-consciousness. Aided by the 
driver of the country conveyance, he lifted 
her gently into the rig, and still resting in 
his arms she was driven to her home. 

Beaching the manor grounds, he foimd it 
to be the well-known estate of people far 
above him in rank. He recalled that she was 
the only daughter, Louise, whose bethrothal to 
a foreigner of note had been \videly published. 

After she was lifted into the house in the 
arms of her rescuer, she opened her eyes, and 
as he carried her to her room and laid her 
on her couch she looked into his face and 
said: ^‘You have saved my life; we must 
be friends.’^ 

Profuse were the thanks of her parents, 
who after his departure remarked upon his 
appearance. When given his card, they knew 
him as the son of a widowed mother of no 
means but good standing. The father 
remarked: ^^A bright future lays before 

him, without doubt.’’ 

Her new friend called daily for news of 
her condition, and later learned the marriage 
had been indefinitely postponed. He wished 


154 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


to take her flowers, but he doubted the recep- 
tion they would have accorded him, knowing 
the difference in their social position. 

When she was able to be on a ‘‘chaise 
longe’’ in the conservatory, he was asked to 
call to see her, which he gladly did, for he 
had long since realized that there was more 
meaning in the word love than he had ever 
thought, and he found himself dwelling upon 
Heine ^s lines as applicable to her. 

‘‘Du bist wie eine Blume, 

So hold und sehon und rein 
Ich schau dich an in wenuth 
Schleieht mir in’s Herz henien.” 

He was born an American, but of Grerman 
ancestry. His father was dead, and his 
mother was true to her early training. While 
his sympathies were adverse to hers. 

At the appointed hour he called, and the 
welcome given to the rescuer was a warm 
one. Later denouments will go to prove that 
it was love on both sides; with him the first 
glance, with her the first ray of consciousness. 

The meeting was such a pleasing one that 
no great effort was made by her toward com- 
plete convalescence. The floral bower in which 
she greeted him was a noted one all over 
the country, and her presence therein lent a 
romantic charm pleasing to the eye and con- 
ducive to the heart. Abundance of home flow- 



Louise 




156 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


ers restrained liis wish to bestow them, but 
he always carried a small nosegay of Mei 
Blumchen, which she had said were her favor- 
ite flowers; and, of course, they were his as 
well. Had these lovely little fragrant flowers 
been able to speak they would have told the 
sweetest tales of love, echoed by the singing 
birds who fluttered about in their hanging 
gold cages. 

On one occasion when he was allowing his 
heart to have full sway, he stopped suddenly 
and looked intensely at her and said; 

^^But I am trespassing on another's rights, 
and I must check myself.^’ 

She smiled and said; ^^But there is no 
other. Things have changed since my acci- 
dent. About that time unpleasant things 
came to our knowledge justifying the step I 
have taken, and making us all grateful for 
the unfolding of the mystery before it was 
too late, so that there need be no check on 
our friendship.’’ 

‘^Friendship,” said he to himself, for he 
meant far more. “Then I must understand 
that I am going too fast, and as I must climb 
the ladder of fame slowly, so must I be 
patient in my heart’s aspiration.” 

He was a lawyer of only average standing, 
but high considering his experience. His pos- 
sessions were summed up in being of good 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


157 


birth, exceptional looks, high tone principles, 
and far more than usual ability. These were 
tlie foundations upon which he must work if 
he would win the prize of his aspirations. 

Louise was fascinated by him, but felt the 
necessity of keeping these impulses under con- 
trol, and thus it was that Albert was kept at 
arm’s length. She was satisfied that lack of 
fortune was all that had saved him for her. 

Ardor was modified when next he called, 
but charm not lessened, for she was glad that 
not being entirely restored to health was a 
reasonable excuse for her indifference to social 
interest. Albert’s ambition was stimulated 
and his increased application to business was 
most pleasing to his partner, a man much 
older than himself. 

Louise’s parents were not slow in ascer- 
taining everything about the young man, not 
wishing to be confronted by another ‘‘feux- 
pas,” and nothing but pleasant news greeted 
their ears, so that time rolled on with happi- 
ness to the lovers, no stumbling block arising 
in their pathway. They took many rides over 
the beautiful roads surrounding their home, 
and it is needless to tell how it all ended. 

This young couple afterwards became ac- 
quaintances, friends and then devoted to Jane, 
looking to her for advice in the usual diffi- 
culties arising in life. 


158 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


So the good done by Jane in her private 
life ever increased, leaving her no time for 
the usnal public duties affected by the mod- 
em woman. 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


T ITTLE by little the web of entanglement 
about the jewels was being unraveled. 
The jewels were being sold at a high price, 
their sale being most desirable on the part of 
all concerned, as they wished to be free from 
their care and responsibility at as early a 
date as possible. 

Again the doctor received a very neat sum 
from their sale, which was deposited by him 
as before, and when the full amount was 
accounted for, steps would be taken for its 
final disposition. 

As was to be expected, Jane was notified 
of every detail of the transaction, and she 
regretted the impossibility of communicating 
with the blind man, but her husband learned 
that all was well with him. 

Polly was notified by her mother that she 
would soon visit her. Her visit was not 
anticipated joyfully, for they knew that from 
their favorite sunflower down to the baby^s 
sand-pile, all would be found fault with by 
her as not being sufficiently elegant. Her 
mother forgot that diamonds and jewels on 
a cheaply decorated toilet stand would be 
159 


160 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


most out of place, for Polly had said tin and 
simple furniture should take the place of sil- 
verware throughout her sunflower home. 

Everything was sweet and comfortable, sun- 
flowers blooming and sunflower decorations, 
for they were embroidered on everything to 
be seen in the house, making the whole place 
look bright and cheerful. 

At first the novelty was pleasing, but soon 
the lack of elegance was wearying. She found 
greater pleasure in the rose atmosphere, with 
its delicate perfume, than in the rank odor, 
as she expressed it, of the sunflower. In 
fact, it exhales no odor, but crowns every- 
thing with a wealth of golden glory, pleasing 
to the eye. 

Polly’s mother rather put a damper upon 
her brilliant spirits, but Jane as ever coun- 
teracted the effect by pointing out the love- 
liness of Polly’s home life with the enjoy- 
ment afforded by Baby Polly, and that 
everjdhing was enjoyed in common. When 
the fault-finding wealth-loving mother left 
them there was rather a sigh of relief than 
a tear of regret. That evening when they 
were all assembled in their cozy sitting room, 
Polly executed for them the famous Pavlova 
dance with such grace that they applauded 
her again and again. Trevis said that she 
could do anything, and they all thought so 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


161 


after that. When complimented, she said ; 
‘‘Beware, take care, if youh^e not real good 
I will branch out for myself and have a side 
show all my own.’^ She was always ready 
to gratify them with some new feature result- 
ing from an overflow of spirits. And so life 
went on happily in the two households, really 
being more like one. 


CHAPTEE XXXV 


J ANE found herself growing impatient for 
the closing of the jewel matter, but it was 
not a thing to be hastened, and she held her 
feelings under control by saying to herself 
this wise proverb: ^^Tout vien en temps a 
lue qui sait attendre.’’ 

Emile advanced nicely in the studies he took 
up during the summer months with Muddy. 
He was greatly interested in a building going 
up not far away from the bungalow, about 
which no one was to ask questions or be curi- 
ous in any way. Boy-like, he ran to his 
mother one day with the startling news that 
he thought it was a garage, and oh, what 
fun it would be to have a Ford, about which 
everyone said such funny things. 

His mother suppressed his delight by say- 
ing: ^^Were we not told to control curiosity 
until Uncle Trevis said we might go there? 
So you must keep away.” But nobody could 
control his sight, nor the quiet little hints 
Uncle Jim gave him. 

Not long thereafter was Polly ^s birthday, 
and at mid-day up came a Ford, with Trevis 
162 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 163 

occupying the back seat, from which he 
sprang, bestowing a fond kiss upon Polly, 
telling her it was his gift on this happy day. 

The first trip of importance taken in it was 
to motor Jane to her husband’s office. The 
doctor’s delight equalled that of the rest of 
them, and he said: 

^<Trevis is a trump.” 

A matter requiring the attention of both 
of them necessitated Jane remaining a few 
days in town, so that the car returned empty, 
save for some flowers sent Polly No. 1 and 
a doll to Polly No. 2. The doctor and detec- 
tives were called to New York to approve of 
a proposition, which was to accept a note and 
time payment for the remainder of the jewels. 
It therefore became necessary that Jane and 
the blind man should confer with each other. 
This caused her to be summoned again to 
town. 

The whole matter was discussed with Jane 
and with the original possessors of many of 
the jewels, with the result that if full value 
was obtained the business should be closed, 
leaving the final settlement with the trustees 
of the company they had selected, and the 
proceeds to be disposed of as before stipu- 
lated, namely, for the benefit of the unfortu- 
nate blind. 


164 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


Jane allowed some time to elapse before 
visiting her protege. Then she did so in the 
most circumspect manner, guarded at every 
step by the advice of her wise and prudent 
husband. 

One can readily fancy the joy it caused the 
poor man when he heard Jane’s voice, whose 
absence from his life had been a deep sor- 
row. Comrades in misery, not entirely blind, 
had kept him somewhat posted, and he had 
only to ask Jane a few questions, the answers 
to which were a great comfort to him. 

To one reading the foregoing narrative of 
a reformed criminal it would seem quite im- 
probable, but reflect upon the marvelous daily 
occurrences veiled in mystery of a much 
graver nature which can be never satisfac- 
torily explained. 

Before drawing down the curtain upon this 
narrative of good deeds of a lovely woman 
and those of a criminal, let us bring before 
our minds the acts of a noble woman, one 
whose heart had been so sorely tried that 
compassion was the instigator of the clem- 
ency that called forth honest sympathy, and 
then realize that Christian guidance saved 
the soul of one who would have been a verit- 
able outcast, but was taught resignation, with 
the knowledge that forgiveness had been 


A NEW ENGLAND PRIMROSE 


165 


granted him from on high. We realize that 
Woman has again proved to the world it is 
the better for her wise instincts and noble 
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